The Fine Art Of Dating
by Radiorox
Summary: Harm and Mac dating, what could be more fun than that? Humor, Romance, takes place during Season 10.
1. Hey Beautiful!

Okay, this is a silly idea I came up with. Seeing as we'll basically NEVER see Harm and Mac DATE on the show, It would be fun to see what would happen if they did date. Some of these will be cheesy, humorous. Let's face it, Harm and Mac can't do anything the easy way, why would dating be any easier?

For fun, I am starting with Harm's POV, chapter 2 will be Mac's POV and on ward with that order. I don't know how many I am going to write, thus far I have three chapters. This is a bit of a muse for me, ideas that would be lost in big stories, but give me better ideas for other stories. I hope that makes sense. ;)

Enjoy! And have a good weekend!

Jackie

Title: The Fine Art Of Dating  
Author: Jackie  
Summary: Takes place during Season 10. If Harm and Mac can't do anything the easy way, imagine what their dates must be like – Harm and Mac Romance/Humor

Part 1 – Hey Beautiful!

"Hey beautiful!" The moment those two words come out of my mouth I feel like grabbing the envelope opener off of my desk and stabbing myself. Mac's just walked into my office and has this look of, what has to be, confusion on her face. It's not like I've never complemented Mac on how good she looks, but a) this is the office, b) I'm still giving her that 'space' thing and c) only once have I said it with such. .umph! Don't get me wrong, it's not that I don't mean it, but in the delicate stage of our relationship, I am not sure she could handle it. "I ah. . .well. . .uh." Duh, yep, good move Hammer! Fluster your way out of this, Mac's already looking at me like she's about to grab my stapler and staple me to death. "Uh, well what I meant. . .I didn't mean. . I didn't mean for it to come out." I try a charming smile slash chuckle, but it really comes out like a snort. God help me.

Mac's eyebrow does that. . .that. . .well, it does that Mac eyebrow thing. You know? When she raises her left eyebrow up in question. It's cute, really it is, though, right now, I am not so sure if I should start thinking about Mac's cuteness. Well, yea, okay, I can think about Mac's cuteness because, I admit it, I am smitten. "I kinda liked it." She says and my whirlwind of pointless thoughts stops abruptly. She _liked_ it? Wow, we'll I'll be a monkey's uncle. "I liked it a lot." She adds with emphasis as her eyebrow comes down and this stunning smile takes place. I find myself catching my breath. Have I mentioned yet that I am smitten? Yep, that is me, Harmon Smitten Rabb Junior.

Making a wondrous transition from my stumbling, bumbling, thinking to my more cockier self, I offer her, what I know is a smile she can't resist. Well, I hope she can't resist because, to be honest, I am not too sure that smile does anything to Mac. Still, I have to give it a try, she can't be totally immune! "If you liked it so much, maybe I should use it more often?"

Did I say smitten? Scratch that, when Sarah MacKenzie looks at me _that_ way, it reminds

me that I am _in love_. Totally, completely, insanely, in love. Now what to do about that?

Is she going to jump into the challenge or back away like we usually do? The ball is and has been in her court. "Maybe you should. . .So what are you up to this weekend?" That question would have normally been out of left field, the type that would take you out of the game, but there is something in the timbre of her voice that's calling me like a moth to a flame.

"I was going to head to Blacksburg, teach Mattie how to fly 'Sarah', but she has plans with Tom." It's a bit sad to see that, after I spent so much time with the girl, I had to go back to status quo. But, I learned a lot from Mattie. Well, maybe not learned, but it showed me that there was nothing wrong with telling people how you feel. Now, the problem is that I feel so much for the woman across from me and I am not entirely sure how to tell her without making her run off.

Though I knew she was busy, Mac still took the time and interest in the aspects of my life. She sat down in one of the guest chairs and teased. "With our without poachers?"

"Hah. . . without, thank you. I am getting too old for harrowing experiences, besides I need a Marine not a teen to survive them." I waggle my eyebrows at her and decide to clarify that whole 'Marine' thing. "By that, I mean this beautiful, female Marine I just so happen to be partnered up with for nine years." Her eyes are locked onto mine, and I swear, we don't need words, the way we're looking at each other is enough to melt the polar icecaps. Her eyes dance alive when I suggest, "You know, this is a long weekend, I'm still planning on heading on up, taking 'Sarah' for a spin. . . wanna come?"

Mac holds this charming smile for a total of. . .of, well seconds, I guess, (She'd be able to tell you exactly how long) before those gorgeous brown eyes of hers settle down to the floor. Uh-oh. "Uh. . .I'm not too sure about that."

"You have my word as and an officer and a gentleman that I will check the whole plane. Scrutinize every inch of it. And when we do get in the air, I will not do a single aerobatic move unless you order me to." I grin at her and notice the wheels in her head are spinning, could I actually be winning Ms. MacKenzie over? Really, I am dying to fly with her again, it's been years, but I can still hear her laughter over the headset. If anything, I just want to see her smile more often, laugh again like she used to. I miss it, terribly so.

"Can I get that in writing?" She gives me a smile, a full bright, Sarah MacKenzie smile and suddenly my heart soars.

Pointing at my computer I nod. "Yep, give me a few minutes and I'll type up a contract with legal jargon and all. . . So is that a yes?" Please let it be a yes. Please let her say yes!

But, something falters, I am not getting the yes I am looking for. "I don't know Harm. . ."

Okay, so, she shot me down, but I am still leaving an opening for her. "Okay, but if you ever get tempted, let me know. . .The offer doesn't come with an expiration."

"Okay. ." She says, the stands and starts to head towards the door. "I better get back to work before they send out a search party." Mac makes it out the door and split second later, I see her turn on her heel, walk back into the office and close the door behind her. She has this look of determination, a new fire that's been fueled and I am suddenly wondering if I did anything wrong. "Why don't you fight me?"

"Excuse me?" Out of the many possible things I expected her to say to me, that really wasn't it. Talk about coming out of left field.

"This whole. . ." She raises her hands to make a point then the words falter completely. Okay, somehow I've managed to make her flustered? Must be my lucky day! "This. .PASSIVE version of you is. . .is. . .well it's pissing me off." She says in a tone that could be considering yelling.

I know I have this completely blank look on my face and honestly, I think it's pissing her off even more. But, the woman has literally left me floating out at sea without a raft. I have, nothing to say.

"SEE what I mean! Since when the hell are you so damned compliant?" She yells, exasperated and then starts pacing my office like a caged animal. A cute, caged animal. Cute? Keep on track here, Harm.

"I'm sorry?" The words escape timidly from my lips. I am not entirely sure what the hell I did wrong, if I did anything wrong.

Luckily for me, Mac's intent on spelling it out. Well, yelling it out. "I tell you it's too soon and. . . you backed off."

Okaaaaay? Did she not say it was "too early" that she'd come to me? "I thought you wanted me to back away?"

"I didn't. . . well I did but. . ." She stops abruptly, then slides into the seat across from my desk as if she hadn't just gone wild a second ago. Mac doesn't look at me, merely settles her gaze to her fingers which are playing with her nails. I am wondering what happened from the moment she walked in 'til now. "Funny, when I told you that it was too soon, it was kinda like you not being able to let go that night in Sydney Harbor."

"Mac. . .I"

"I guess I pushed you to them."

_Them? _Okay, confused again thanks! I am not too sure I want to know what she's referring to but, okay, I'll bite. "Them who?"

"Professor Montes. . .Dr. Elgin. . .Whoever has come and gone since I had you back off." There is something in her eyes, a pain put there by misinformation. Well, in this case it's no information.

There are a few points I need to clarify. "Professor Montes and I never went out Mac. . .I mean, we went to dinner but with one of her students. . .That dinner, at my place, was also about work."

Suddenly she has this look of disgust and I am not sure if it's at herself or at me. "Just work?"

I nod. "Yes. . . And Dr. Elgin. . ."See, I was very much pleased to see Mac showing some interest in Inez's attempt at flirtation. I know I was smiling smugly at that little hint of jealousy. So sue me? At least I knew that she still _was_ interested. But, during dinner, as Inez and I discussed some aspects of our life, we fell on the topic of Jordan. Apparently, she and Inez talked _a lot_ about me. And by _a lot_, Jordan had mentioned a very attractive friend of hers who had a crush on me. At first, I thought Inez was referring to herself until she mentioned that said friend was a woman that worked with me at the time, a Marine Major. I choked on the wine I was sipping, some of it even came out of my nose when Inez grinned up at me and simply said. 'How long have you been in love with Colonel MacKenzie?' I wanted to bolt at that moment, from the embarrassment of it all. I tried to non-chalantly shrug it off, but Inez was intent on calling me out on it. There was one thing though, a miniscule thought that had me worried from the time our main course arrived and even until this day. What if Mac had plans with _someone_ else? Worse yet, a _male_ someone else? " . . .when we sat through dinner all I could think was what you were doing. . .Better put, who you were doing it with."

Mac's mouth opens and closes a few times and a rather lovely shade of pink appears on her cheeks. I figure she's going to attack me for that last comment, but she, instead tries to make a hasty retreat. "Oh. . okay then. . ."

She's got the door half open, when I decide to make some sort of stand. "Do you want me to fight?" Direct hit! Mac's now closed the door again and spun around so fast she must have whiplash. She is staring at me with a look of confusion. I move around my desk, slowly, hoping I won't scare her away. "You once told me that my interest in you fades and that is not true. . .I've _always_ been interested in you, Mac. . . _Always."_ Her eyes are looking at me with a vulnerability I've never ever seen in her before. The walls around her are crumbling slightly, while it might be a good thing for other people, I am afraid that being so defenseless would make her run. God knows we can't let our relationship take another hit. "Mac, I'll wait. . . as long as you want me to, I'll wait. . .but I need to know what I am waiting for. . . that you aren't suddenly going to run off somewhere. . .or worse. . .to _someone_ else."

Her look softens and all that apprehension is replaced by a smile that lights up my whole office. "Maybe you don't have to wait anymore?" Her voice is so low and wispy that my brain can't help but believe this is what she would sound like in bed. Woah! Get that mind out of the gutter.

"Go out with me tonight." I cringe slightly realizing that it was more of a demand than a suggestion or even a question. Not good.

Mac raises her cute little brow in a challenge. She's going to let me have it and I am actually looking forward to it. "You caveman, me cavewoman?" She says in this deep voice that has me holding my laughter in so much that it comes out in machine gun burst of snorts.

This, of course, makes her start laughing at me and I suddenly want to crawl under my desk and shoot myself. "Yea, make fun of the sailor, whydontcha?"

"You're so cute when you get all red and flustered." Hmmm, she defiantly didn't mean to say that, because, by the look of shock on her face, she's gonna try to back peddle. I heard that MacKenzie! Loud and clear.

My ego goes up a few notches (difficult, I know, considering my pilot ego is already sky high, haha!) and I grin unabashed at her. "So I am cute?"

"Oh you know you are." She doesn't even force that out, instead she teases me. "Just don't let that go to your head, Commander. If your ego inflates anymore, the two of you won't fit in this office."

We laugh again and just as quickly things are weird. "Let's try this again. . ." I rock on my heels and decide to try again. "Mac, will you go to dinner with me tonight?"

"Business dinner, friendly dinner or date dinner?" Oooh, I knew she wouldn't make this easy.

"Date. . ." I toss casually as I make my way over to my desk and slide into my chair. "By the way, dress nice."

"How nice? Formal nice? Casual nice? Some people consider my cowboy pajamas to be nice." There is a mischievous twinkle in her eye.

And although those cowboy jammies are nice. . .well, cute actually, "Casual nice, maybe a simple dress, or skirt and a nice top." I offer, as my mind takes a trip down all of the different outfits I've seen my partner in. I am tempted to suggest that afterwards I would like to see her in those cowboy jammies, but I bite my tongue, it's a little too soon to be thinking about spending the night.

"Pick me up at eight?"

"Sounds good to me." Mac has this dazzling grin as she, for the millionth time today, reaches for my door. Before she has a chance to make it out I call out. "And don't forget those comfortable shoes."

"You better believe I won't, flyboy." Mac nearly careens into Sturgis as she walks out of my office. Apparently I am not the only cute thing that is flustered around here.

For the rest of my day I literally get nothing done as I sift through the phone book trying to select a casually nice place to take Mac. I sit back in my chair, propping my feet up on my desk as my hands settle behind my head. "Ah, dinner with Mac tonight." And in a second flat, I launch myself out of the chair. In my daydreaming, I've totally not caught on that it's five past quitting time. As I shove papers into my briefcase, a thought trails through my mind. "Dinner with Mac! What am _I_ going to wear?"


	2. Date Number One

Hey gang! Hope eeryone is having/has had a good weekend. Hope you guys enjoy this part, I had to re-write it a few times to get it where I wanted it to be. Enjoy!

Jackie

Thanks to: e-dog, Macaroon, BeachChick, Dessler, dansingwolf, Maria, blueangel, Vrbinka, BiteBeccy, SarahRabb, my.evian, anna, Jaggie107, snugglebug, Manda, Lisa, cbw, Xblue, froggy, aserene and mizukimar for the feedback:)

Story 2 – Date Number One

I study myself in the mirror, doing a once over at my attire. Harm suggested it to be casual but nice. Okay, so I am wearing a white dress with long sleeves. It's simple, casual, there's nothing over the top about it, but it also does look classy if I do say so myself. Checking my internal clock it tells me that he has ten minutes to arrive and I am curious as to whether Mr. Greatness For Lateness will arrive on time or not. My mind travels back and forth with the conversation we had in his office. You wouldn't know it at the time, but I was ecstatic to hear that he hadn't been involved with Dr. Elgin or Professor Montes. I guess when he said he'd wait, he meant it. And God, I think my heart jumped out of my chest the moment he called me beautiful. It wasn't just that he said it, it was the way he said it. Simple, non-complicated as if it were completely normal for us to talk that way. It was sweet, very sweet, but it did catch me off guard.

My curiosity is killing me as to where he's going to take me, what we are going to do and how this is all going to work. I have so many butterflies in my stomach that I might as well move into Butterfly World. It's been so long since I've been on actual date. Wow! _Date!_ I am going on a _date_ with Harmon Rabb. I am going on a date with Harmon Rabb, the sexiest lawyer slash pilot in the Navy. Harm and I, on a date. Hee hee, I haven't been this giddy in. . .well, ever! Just in case, I keep looking out the window to see if pigs started flying yet. I am sure Hell has probably frozen over!

Grabbing my lipstick, I start to apply a bit of it when I hear the knock on the door. He's five minutes early, not bad for a squid. Taking a deep breath, I consider walking calmly to the door, but that just does not happen. My legs, having a mind of their own, have me sprinting across the apartment which is not an easy feat wearing three inch heels. I take a deep breath, then open up with an attempt to dazzle him with a smile. Cept, he's the one dazzling me.

When his eyes lock onto mine, I feel the zing between us. There is a change in the air as Harm takes in the sight of me, slowly, but respectfully. I take my own time taking in his sexy self. He has on black slacks, a light blue, button down shirt and a black sports jacket. The shirt just gives more life to those gorgeous blue eyes of his. God, and I said 'never' to this man? What in the hell was I thinking? We smile at each other shyly. Wow, I haven't felt this way since I was a teenager. "You're on time sailor." I finally manage to get out.

"Well, I had a gorgeous lady waiting for me." Stepping into my apartment he offers a smile and a bouquet of yellow roses. "For you."

I know I couldn't smile more if I tried to. Gently, I take the vase and sniff the roses surprised that, for once, they actually _smell_ like roses. "They're beautiful, thank you." I turn away from him and head to the coffee table which will be the bouquets new home in a place I'll see it every time I walk by. I sigh happily, we might get this right just yet. I wonder if Guinness has some sort of record for how long two people, who are very attracted to each other, can go without being together? Better yea, a 'how stubborn can one be' award. I sniff the flowers again, then turn to Harm who is just standing there studying me. His gaze washes over me making me feel so wanted and sexy. As weird as it sounds he brings out the woman in me, something that few, if any, have had a chance to see. "Do you want coffee or something?" I am rambling something at this point, mainly because those eyes are captivating me.

"Actually, I have reservations at Mario's. So we need to get going." Ah, Mario's. That's our new restaurant in town, a nice, quiet, romantic spot that I keep hearing about. According to Bud, it's a nice place, not overly stuffy. If you manage to snag one of the back tables, it's very intimate and definitely not the type of place to go alone.

I take my purse and jacket, then head over to him. "Well, let's head off then."

The ride down to Mario's was a little less than smooth. The conversation was great, he complimented my dress at least three times and once he almost ran us off the road because he was staring. Halfway there, Harm's car decides to blow a tire and we spend twenty minutes trying to fix it. Well, I heard a saying once that at least, _one_ thing should go wrong per occasion. Supposedly, once that wrong thing is out of the way, it expels all negatives. I am not superstitious, but if that's what it takes to make this work, I am all for it.

When we arrive at Mario's Harm gets the bad news that our table had been given out to someone else. We stand in a small waiting room until the Maitre d', called Giuseppe, ushers us through the restaurant to a table in a not so intimate section of the restaurant. Damn and I had my hopes up. Giuseppe goes through the list of specials and as he is speaking, you can tell the man isn't anything close to Italian. If anything he is a Latin guy and his real name is Pablo. "This is not what I expected." Harm said, looking around the place. For that matter, I thought we'd be canoodled up in some small table, in a dark corner while some romantic Italian number washes over us. "I'll be right back." Man with a mission, Harm stands and heads on over to Pablo. Ugh, I mean Giuseppe.

I eye him suspiciously as he pulls out his wallet and a few bills. I can only deduce that he is looking to bribe the man into giving us a better table. Like those nice ones at the back. Harm points behind me, to one table in the back of the room, in a much more intimate setting than right in the middle of the restaurant. Apparently, Pablo is in no mood to negotiate and Harm is too hard headed to drop it. He pulls out another bill from his wallet then points over to me. When Giuseppe glances over, I wave the fingers of my hand, then blow a kiss in their direction, laughing when Harm's jaw drops. He's just too cute. Whatever he did, or maybe it was what I did, I am not sure, but Harm did manage to secure us that small intimate table.

He pulls out a chair for me then gives me this sheepish grin. "It's a little less noisy over here. . .And I want you all to myself." Harm says unabashed. I like this new side of him, a lot.

"Are you afraid someone will steal me away?" I tease him with a grin.

"Oh, I'd stab them with the silverware if anyone tried. . .But, no, like I said, I want you all to my. . ." Harm never gets to finish his sentence because, out of no where, a perky, overly enthusiastic, dressed in an indecent frock, blond bimbo appears at his side. For a moment I believe she is a waitress, until she starts talking.

"Harmon Rabb Junior! Oh, it is you!" Great, we're on a date and one of his former arm decoration shows up. Well, I am not sure if she is an arm decoration, but she seems a bit too friendly, if you get my drift. Maybe we should have stayed in the more crowded space? "You never call!" She whines at him, her voice sounding like someone has just raked their nails on a blackboard.

Whatever business this woman had with Harm doesn't seem to be too pleasant if his audible groan has anything to say about it. He gives me a pleading glance, then looks up to the side where she is perched. It looks as if he is forcing himself to respond to her "Barbie? How are you?" _Barbie?_ Her name is _Barbie?_ I am trying, so hard not to laugh when he mentioned her name. Barbie? Yep, she does look like some form of Barbie doll – plastic, annoying as hell. All she needs is her Ken doll. And Harm is no Ken, who, in my humble opinion, is a poor excuse for a man.

Barbie smiles genuinely at him and I suddenly want to jump across the table and tear her eyes out. Better yet, didn't Harm say something about stabbing people with silverware? I am not above violence especially when it comes to getting this party girl away from _my_ date! "I am going great, who's your friend?"

"This is Sarah MacKenzie. . .Mac, this is Barbie Angelique Mardossa." The name flowed in such a way that all was missing was a title after it like: countess of bimboville.

I smile politely at her, but all the woman could do is shoot me daggers. Shouldn't that be the other way around? Her attention then turns completely to Harm and the way she is eyeing him is making me nauseous. How fair is it that I go nine years watching this man with other women. And now, that I finally have him to myself, some bimbo has to drop on by. If someone finds Murphy, tell him that I know where he could shove his law.

Without so much as an invitation, Barbie takes a chair from the table closest to us and sits between Harm and I. Glancing over at Harm I give him my best 'get rid of the bimbo' glare. The way she's ogling him is as if she seems intent on stripping him naked and having her way with him right here. Ugh, deep breaths, deep breaths. "So, how are things? Have you seen much of Mattie?"

I've never been really interested in who Harm dated. Well, I've been interested but just didn't want to know the details. Well, okay, I wanted to know the details but, then again I didn't. Okay, yes I am a confused woman. But, if I find out he dated this. .. thing, I think I might have to beat him upside the head. God, I'd almost prefer Renee to this woman.

Oh, please tell me he didn't date her. Harm's flustered for a moment and I know what is going to happen. Mr. Officer and a Gentleman is just too polite to tell Barbie to take a hike. As her hand darts out and caresses his arm, I am tempted to put her into some headlock followed by a coma. The only thing restraining me is the look on Harm's face. "Uh." Casually he removes her hand from where it was trailing up his arm. "Yes, we still see each other and talk, a lot. . . Barbie do you mind, Mac and I. . ." He never gets to finish that one either.

Barbie flops the upper half of her body over the table, effectively cutting me out of the conversation. "Alex is with his dad right now. . .so I'll have the house all to myself." This woman is as subtle as a rhino. She tosses me a dirty look. "Well, I guess you are busy tonight. . .But how about a rain check?"

"Actually, thanks but no, thanks. . .most, if not all of my free time I am planning to spend with Mac here." He moves around her, taking my hand in his. I can feel the tingle in his touch as his thumb rubs the back of my hand. It's a small gesture, but it fills me with pride.

Now, I don't know exactly what happened in that split second, but Barbie went into psycho mode. Two seconds after it registers that Harm is on a date and apparently serious about perusing something with me, Barbie totally flips out. Picking a plate from the tray a waiter just set up for the table closest to us, she pours it all over Harm getting tomato sauce, meatballs and spaghetti _all _over him. "You are a jerk! You don't call, you lead me on. . .What kind of a man are you?"

I am sure Harm had lots to say, but instead he just sits there as if in disbelief that this had occurred. He may be flustered, but this Marine sure isn't. I stand up, meeting her face to face using the best drill instructor voice I could muster. "What the hell is wrong with you?" I bark out. Barbie tries to say something, but I cut her off. "First, I suggest you shut the hell up. Second, I want you to apologize. Third, I want you to never bother Harm again." So much for trying to sound like a Marine, the way those terms came out sounded much more like a lawyer.

My direct approach has Barbie backing down completely as she back peddles away from us. Unfortunately, the whole 'intimacy' thing has gone out the window. Two seconds later, as all the other patrons go back to their conversation and meals, Harm and I are escorted out of Mario's. I guess you could say we were kicked out and the manager sort of suggested we never return again.

So much for a night out on the town. Leaving Mario's, we hopped in the Lexus and headed to the local diner, a place Harm loving calls "The greasy spoon." The food there has always been good, the company was excellent. We chatted and joked about the evening, both agreeing that we wouldn't let that little bit ruin any of it. I asked Harm about Barbie and he told me she was the mother of a boy Mattie had gone to school with. Apparently, because he'd helped Mattie and her son with a project, the woman had an unhealthy attraction to him. "It's probably the only _good_ thing I got from Mattie moving back to Blacksburg. . .Since she wasn't lab partners with Alex anymore, I didn't have to see Barbie."

Barbie, I chuckle, still not getting over the name nor the spectacle. I glace at Harm's shirt which is most surely, permanently ruined. "Be glad you never went out with her then, could have been like 'Fatal Attraction.'"

"Ugh." He groans with a face of disgust that I just giggle at. Harm can be so damned cute. He smiles up at me with a look of guilt and I am suddenly worried. "Look, I had a lot of things planned, but, is it okay if we call it a night and try this again some other time?"

Normally, I would be upset, but Harm looks so uncomfortable in his stained clothing that I have to agree. "As long as it's sometime soon, you got a deal."

Taking my hand, he kisses the back of it then just smiles. I catch myself sighing and know I have a goofy grin on my face. For all of the bad things that has happened tonight, it was still quite wonderful.

As we come to a stop outside of my apartment, the weather has a turn for the downright nasty. I really don't want him heading home like this, besides he does need to clean up and he can do that in my place. "Come up, Harm. . .I don't want you driving in this." I nod out the window the wind seems to pick up at my motions.

Harm turns to study me for a moment and then concedes, I bet he is wondering what else could go wrong tonight. For that matter, so am I. He parks his Lexus behind my Corvette, then comes around to open the door for me. I stiffle a chuckle at his suit covered in tomato sauce. We head up to my apartment in silence, when I unlock the door to let us in, I find that my apartment has no lights. Great. Just great. "Figures." Harm says grumpily as he trudges in behind me.

"Stay put. . I'll go get some candles and flashlights." I head towards my kitchen to find said items which is easier said than done, even if I do know where everything is.

When I return, Harm is standing in the middle of my living room with a sheepish expression. "You mind if I get cleaned up?"

I hand him over the flashlight then work on lighting a candle. "Sure, I'll put something on the bed for you to wear." He heads into the bathroom as rummage through my drawers. There isn't much there and if Harm actually fits into my pants I will shoot myself. I settle for a pair of old sweat pants and a sweatshirt. It is kinda cool outside, I am sure he could survive for the night.

Heading back into the living room I work on getting the fireplace started. Anything is better than having a zillion candles lit all over the place. I learned this, of course, the hard way when we had another power outage and I wasn't paying attention to the candles. My coffee table nearly caught on fire and I sure as hell don't want that happening again. After getting a nice fire going, I move to the sofa and am about to blow out the candle when I see Harm heading out of my room. Oh My God.

Nothing fits him, at all. "You laugh, MacKenzie and you're so in for it." First off, the sweat pants are too short, riding up to his calves like a pair of Capri pants. Second, I apparently put the wrong sweatshirt on the bed. The one Harm is wearing is cut at the hem and the collar so that it hangs off of one shoulder and his midriff is poking out. And he's still wearing his black dress socks, which makes the pants look that much more ridiculous.

I bite my lower lip, but that still doesn't stop me from laughing. "Harm. . .How. . .could. . .I . . not . . .laugh?" I say between giggles. It occurs to me that I've been doing that way too much lately. But, this is Harm I am giggling with and we _are_ dating. Well, attempting to.

As he walks over, the sweats just ride up a bit more and Harm tries to modestly bring it down to cover his stomach. Nothing doing and I really don't mind because it gives me this peak at those delicious abs of his. He flops down next to me and grins. "See something you like?"

"Oooooh yea." That comes out a bit too. . .too. . .well, intimate sounding. That ego of his, totally got stroked with that one. Not that I mind, especially with that killer look he's giving me.

"Not that I don't appreciate what you're wearing, but aren't you going to slip into your jammies?" His voice has this playful undertone in it. And as much as I would love to slip into something sexy and skimpy, I am not too sure that is the way to go. At least, not tonight. I want to marvel in going out with him a few times before we actually seal the deal.

I pat his leg playfully then stand. "Sure, I'll be right back." I say softly in a bedroom voice, then head into my bedroom and pull out my cowboy pajamas which have got to be the most unsexy thing that I own. They are comfy, warm and leave everything up to the imagination. For good measure, I take a few extra minutes doing absolutely, positively nothing. Good to let them stir. When I finally do head out to the living room I half expect Harm to pout, but, instead, he's grinning like a Cheshire cat. Oh, c'mon! He can't be THAT enthralled over cowboy jammies.

As I make my way over and sit next to him, I find he is chuckling. "You know, I kinda hoped you'd wear those."

Wow, now that I never expected. Clay had hated them. Actually, Clay hated anything that didn't show off an ample amount of skin. Ugh, Webb, what a mistake, if I do say so myself. No more thinking of him, thank you! "Okay, you actually _like_ my cowboy pajamas?"

There is this grin that he doesn't bother hiding at all. A deadly, sexy grin as his hand reaches over and takes mine. "Oh, yea. . .I think you look positively cute in them."

Cute? Did he just call me cute? Ladies and gentlemen, Harmon Rabb just called me cute! "Cute?" I mask my elation as much as possible, too careful not to stroke that ego of his.

Harm does that smile where he sticks his tongue out slightly and I know I've been had. He can see on my face exactly what I was trying to hide. "Yea, Mac. . .cute, adorable and so very much you."

I move closer to him and he welcomes my intrusion on his personal space. My fingers trace down his cheeks, nose, lips. "One could say the same thing about you, Harmon Rabb." In the span of a second, my lips replace my fingers and we kiss, slowly. At first, I swear he didn't realize what happened, but when my hands slid through his hair, he got with the program.

Harm kisses me back, slow and passionately. Pulling me towards him, I manage my way onto his lap which makes our slow, tantalizing exploration that much better. After a few minutes of indulging in what was now so in reach, we part breathlessly. "Wow." He says.

"Yea, wow." I repeat, damn he's a good kisser. A very good kisser. And I want more than just a kiss, but it can't be tonight. And I think he knows the same thing.

Harm smiles at me. "I want to stay the night, Mac. ..but I am afraid of what would happen if I do."

Oh, I know what he means but I, in no way intend on him leaving tonight, not with the weather how it is. "So stay, nothing has to happen. . .Not yet, anyway." It's a bit ridiculous to wait, considering we've waited for how long? But, it feels right to do so, to not treat us like every other relationship. This has to be handled right. "But I want you to stay. The weather is not nice outside."

"I'll stay, Mac. . .But it might be a good idea for you to get off my lap." He says with a mischievous grin.

I barely realized that I had wound up on his lap, shyly, I move of him and onto my side of the sofa. "Woops." I grin at him and we just stare at each other. It isn't awkward at all, just nice. Really, really nice. We spend an hour just going over mundane chit chat, things that are personal and we rarely discuss. When it was time to head to bed, we had a bit of an argument, he wanted to hit the couch and I refused. Eventually we did wind up in bed together, platonically, of course – each on our side. However, sometime in the middle of the night, his arms wrapped around me. I've never felt so safe before in my life


	3. Doctor’s Visit

I figure one of these a week. Sounds good? Yes no, maybe so? The begining of this story was how I was feeling last week. Well, this and last week :P 

Jackie 

Thanks to: e-dog, Macaroon, BeachChick, Dessler, dansingwolf, Maria, blueangel, Vrbinka, BiteBeccy, SarahRabb, my.evian, anna, Jaggie107, snugglebug, Manda, Lisa, cbw, Xblue, froggy, aserene, crazybum, VrbinkaCZE, sally, trooper, starryeyes, Martini, NavyBabe, jaggurl, and mizukimar for the feedback:)

Part 3 – Doctor's Visit

"Harm?" There's a knocking on my door, calling my name and it feels like someone has just taken a bat to the base of my skull. I feel miserable. Somehow, (I think it was the Gunny I was defending) I got some sort of bug. A cold, the flu, Ebola, whatever you want to call it and it's sucked the life out of me. It took me an hour to call in sick, simply because I couldn't move from the bed. Last night was murder, every time I stared falling asleep my nose kept running a marathon. Around four AM, I ran out of those nice tissue paper with aloe on it. You know? The kind that feels good on your nose. Since then, I had resorted to toilet paper (I have a roll next to me right now) which feels like sand paper every time I blow into it. I've had so much water that I may as well just drag the five gallon bottle out of the water machine, park it next to my bed and just stick a long ass straw in it. Light bugs me. I found that out the hard way as I went into the head and the lights I turned on nearly blinded me. "Haaaaaaaarm?" There is a knock on my door again and it takes an superhuman amount of will power to get me moving.

"Yea, yea. . .coming!" My voice is all disgusting and nasally. God, I hate being sick. I open the door up to find Mac standing on the other side, she bends down, picks up a bag from, what has to be, a grocery store then barges right in. As she passes me Mac stops and gives me a peck on the cheek and a silly grin, but it does nothing for my mood. "Uh, Mac. . .Not in the mood for company right now."

She heads straight into my kitchen, props the bag up on the island and starts taking things out of it. "Well, since you're sick today I though you'd like some chicken soup."

"What I'd like is to be shot and put out of my misery." I lock the door then drag myself over to the island. I want to sit up on one of the stools, but that won't work. My body aches too much to try. Instead, I just lean heavily against on of the chairs. It's then that I feel a sneeze coming on, but just my luck, nothing happens. Ugh!

"Why don't you go and crash and I'll bring it over to you when I am done."

I shrug, that sounds reasonable enough. "Just don't burn down the kitchen." Wincing as a blow my nose on the toiler paper, I shuffle my way across the apartment and towards the steps to my room. Why, oh, why didn't I just build a ramp here? No, I have to maneuver these steps then walk those few feet to my bed. I throw myself on the bed and don't get any sleep at all, surprise, surprise. Instead I lay with my head propped up so I can see what Mac is doing in the kitchen. She seems very at home and I file that memory away for inspection when my brain isn't in a cold medicine induced haze. It doesn't take too long for this wondrous smell to permeate my apartment and for the first time all day, I am actually hungry.

About an hour later, Mac brings in a tray with soup and some oyster crackers which she tosses into the soup. Something about me needed to eat something solid if I've been taking medicine. I grunt in response, not caring if I upset her, I am really sick! I lift the spoon to my lips and take a sip and she smiles as I nod at her approvingly. All of those bad jokes about her not being able to cook were just that. Course, Mac prefers to reheat, nuke and order out, but she's cooked for me before and I've yet to drop dead. She settles herself at the edge of my bed and her hand feels my forehead, cheeks and neck. "You're burning up."

Why does everyone automatically think their hand is a substitute for a thermometer? I blow on the spoon to cool down the soup then swallow some down. "I feel like roadkill."

"You look like it too." She says with a grin, then reaches over for my thermometer which is sitting on my nightstand. "Lift up your arm." She commands as she shakes the thing to get rid of the last reading. I had to think about the thermometer didn't I? Now she's giving me this motherly, doctoral, Mac look which would be cute if my brain wasn't swimming.

I stare at her for a moment and for the first time I really realize that Mac is in my apartment. Well, not just that she's in my apartment, but that she can get sick. And this thing, well I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy. . .Hmmm, check that, I wouldn't mind if Palmer had it. I push Mac's hand away from my t-shirt, where she is tugging to lift it up. "Woah, wait. . .You shouldn't be here. . .I don't want you getting sick too."

"I'll be fine. I had a double dose of vitamin C and Echinacea. I'll stay cootie free. . . Now lift up your arm." She says in that I'm-not-taking-no-for-an-answer tone.

Nope, not going to do it. Not going to let her take care of me as if I am some five year old. I am a grown man and I can take care of myself. "Mac, this is nice, but I don't need you to take care of me." Okay, that sounded a bit bitter and I didn't mean it as such, but I had my male pride to take care of here!

"Haaaaaaaaaarm." That warning tone of hers unnerves me, I am so not in the mood for it.

"Maaaaaaaaaaac" I repeat in the same tone and she just rolls her eyes at me. "Look, really I'll be fine." I slurp down some more soup and some of it gets all over my shirt. Who cares? I am sick! "Thanks for the soup and for stopping by, but you really have to go."

She's gonna fight me on this I can tell. Grabbing a napkin, she dabs at my shirt cleaning the soup off. Yea, I know, I should be thinking: ahhhhhhh, that is soooo cute! Hah! Umm, well, yea it is. "Let me see your throat." She turns on the lamp beside my bed and angles the shade so that she could see me better. I squint at the light.

I shove another spoonful of soup in my mouth and shake my head vehemently. Course right around there this friggin coughing spurt starts and I hack my lungs out for a good minute. Mac is staring at me with concern, okay, so I am sick, I feel like crap and I want to be taken care of.. Besides, I bet every single heterosexual male would die to have Mac as their nurse. Screw male pride! With a sigh, I do that "aaaaaaaaaahhhhh" sound as I open my mouth and let her take a look around.

"Hmmm." She starts, holding my chin and moving my head in different angles. Mac is gentle with me, despite her I'll-kick-your-six-any-day-Marine exterior. "Not good. . .looks like you have an infection. . .You need to go to the doctor." Her fingers run softly through my head and I stupidly give into her, until it dawns on me – she wants me to go WHERE!

That's when I start to lose it. "Oh no, hell no!" Anything but the doctor, I'd prefer spending a weekend dealing with the budget report than going to the doctor!

Mac shakes her head. "Look I know you don't like them, but you are sick and your throat looks infected." I try to object but she gives me a pointed glare. "You don't have a choice." And the gentleness has run right the hell out of here, Sarah MacKenzie is on Marine-on-a-mission mode.

I concede, against my wishes, but I know that if I don't do as she wishes, Mac will just haul me down there anyway. "Okay, fine. . .but I am finishing my soup first!"

The moment we walk through the halls of Bethesda, I am inclined to just turn around and bolt. And this isn't because I have a doctor's visit, I feel like bolting even when I am here visiting someone else. I hate doctors, all sorts of doctors, shrinks, neurosurgeons, general practioner, the OBGYN. Especially the OBGYN after not being able to help much with Mac's health concerns. I take a deep, shaky breath as we walk into Dr. Rawlings office. Mac ushers me into a chair and she speaks with the receptionist about who I am, what I am in for and what paperwork I need to sign. I swear, this is like a death sentence, I'd rather be in the brig.

My leg is nervously moving up and down in a speed that is incomprehensible, especially with as crappy as I am feeling. I reach into my jacket and pull out a travel sized packet of Kleenex which I will, no doubt, go through in less than twenty minutes. Jeez, I am debating just sticking a cork in each nostril, better yet, let's just hermetically seal my nose. As I go into another full minute coughing spree, the female Navy Lieutenant sitting two seats away from me stands and heads over to the other end of the waiting room. Smart woman. Under normal circumstances, I'd be perturbed, but for the moment, it's best if people just run away from me.

Mac brings back the paper work and hands it to me to fill out. I stare at it and the words start to cross, from exhaustion, from whatever plague has gripped me, I am not sure. "Mac, can you fill this out. . ." Cough. "For." Cough. "Me." Cough. Cough. Cough. Cough. "Please. ." I wheeze out and she sympathetically reaches into her purse and produces the bag of cough drops that I though we left at home. He unwraps one, then sticks it in my mouth. "Bless you. . . You're an angel."

She chuckles. "Uh huh, just remember that if I ever need _you_ to take _me_ to the doctors." Grabbing the pen attached to the clip board she fills out the things she knows. "Besides, I need to get you healthy. . .Can let you croak before we go on another date." She says in a sing song voice that makes me chuckle. Well, cough and chuckle. It takes her quite a while before she bumps into something she doesn't know. I don't know why, but I find that endearing and smile at the notion that she knows me so well. "I am not sure on this one. . 'Do you have allergies to medications?' Penicillin right?"

I nod. "Yep, nothing else." She fills out that part then skims through the things she hadn't filled out.

Mac grins. "Are you currently using recreational drugs?"

Yes, I am. Sarah MacKenzie. That's a wonderful drug wrapped in Marine greens with a body that can stop traffic and eyes that can melt a man at twenty paces. "Nah, I tossed out my stash of pot." I joke with her and for my efforts go into a slight coughing/wheezing fit.

"Woah there, sailor." She runs soothing circles on my back and I moan happily with the contact. Damn, am I happy I am _not_ in uniform.

She's scanning the sheet for more details when she abruptly stops her musings on me. "Okie dokie, here it's asking. . .uh, well, do you have problems ejaculating?" I shake my head no and she proceeds to another question which has her blushing. "Any problems getting or maintaining an erection?" She stumbles through the question.

"No." I joke, "All my parts are working just fine and dandy."

The Lieutenant at the other side of the office, I can tell, is hanging onto every little last word we say. She was watching us until that whole thing about my. . .uh, parts came up. Now she's turned beet red. I swear I hear Mac hiss out a breath of relief. Then she moves towards the clincher. "Are you currently sexually active?"

Wow, who would have thought that just a simple doctor's visit would turn to this? "No, I am not." Again, Mac breathes a sound of relief.

"When was the last time you engaged in sexual activity and was your partner male or female?" The sentence rushes out so quickly that, if it wasn't because I filled out that same form a couple of months ago for my physical, I wouldn't have a clue what she said.

Now, this poses a problem. Well, maybe. Some would have you believe that I've had women in and out of my life, various women since Renee left. While this is slightly true, the fact is that I haven't been sexually active with any of them. I intended on letting Mac know, but not quite in this venue. Mentally I count back, "Female, May 2001."

The Lieutenant scoffs, as she over hears that part and quickly tries to mask it as a cough. Mac is just staring at me and there is a look in her eyes, an odd look, guilt maybe? Guilt that she had an intimate relationship with Webb while I stood at the sidelines. I am slightly pleased at holding that power over her, but I won't use it for the wrong reasons. Instead I smile and shrug. "I underestimated you." She says in a soft voice. "I'm sorry for that."

"It's not your fault." Which is true, I could have fought her, she pointed out to that last week. We get interrupted when the nurse pokes her head out of the door. I know this conversation we shall brush again at another venue, am just not too sure I want to have it. Thank God the nurse interrupts. "Commander Rabb? Your turn."

Mac hands me the forms and settles herself into the chair. Now, I start to panic. "You aren't going in with me?" She furls her brow for a moment, then gets it, she knows how I do not like doctors.

With a sigh, she stands up, grabs her purse and follows me in. "Sure, I'll hold your hand, kiss all the boo-boos and keep them bad bad doctors away."

I stop and glare at her for a moment, but deep inside I am smiling. "Funny."

As we pass by, I hear the Lieutenant softly tell Mac. "He's a keeper." To which Mac agrees.

To Be Continued...


	4. The Supply Closet Adventure

Thanks for all of the reviews on this one. This part is, by far, my fav that I've written. There are a few more amusing parts coming up. Well, I am trying to work on them. Hehehe.

Jackie

Thanks to: e-dog, Macaroon, BeachChick, Dessler, dansingwolf, Maria, blueangel, Vrbinka, BiteBeccy, SarahRabb, my.evian, anna, Jaggie107, snugglebug, Manda, Lisa, cbw, Xblue, froggy, aserene, crazybum, VrbinkaCZE, sally, trooper, starryeyes, Martini, NavyBabe, jaggurl, Nix, joanoa, jagdreamer, Kinga, and mizukimar for the feedback:)

Part 4 – The Supply Closet Adventure

Heading out of the door of the stairwell, I make my way down the hallway towards ops. After a direct order from the General, I was to wait downstairs for the elevator guy to lock it down to ensure no one got stuck inside. I pass our supply closet when I feel a strong set of arms wrap around my waist and pull me backwards. Immediately, my Marine training kicks in. It takes just one move to free myself and with a second, I shove the heel of my palm into my attacker's face.

"Oh, jeez, Mac. . .Do you have to be so violent?" Staring up into my partner's face, I can't help but chuckle as he places his hand over his nose, his voice sounding all nasally as he speaks.

"Hello! I'm a Marine! You should know better." I reach up to see the damage I've done and am happy to report that his nose is not bleeding. His eyes, on the other hand are streaming with tears from the punch, woops. It's then that I realize where Harm came out of. . "And what were you doing in the supply closet?"

Harm moves his fingers over his nose and when he is insured that it wasn't broken, he smiles down at me. "Waiting for you."

"Waiting for me?" Okay, now I have to ask, "Why?"

That smile of his just widens and becomes every bit mischievous as he says, "Well, can't a guy have a little fun?"

"Harm!" Woah, did I sound like a disapproving mother! Still, with that look he is giving me, I know exactly what type of 'little fun' he wanted to have. My eyes widen in shock. Now who's being the prude, MacKenzie?

No matter what I feel for this man, I am not about to start getting it on in some supply closet like a horny teenager. For one thing, we haven't exactly gone past second base. For another, I'll be damned if our first time doesn't include a) dinner first, b) some soft, romantic music, c) me in some skimpy, but tasteful lingerie, and d) most definitely a bed. I may have been a bit more charitable with past lovers and our locales, but I am not seventeen anymore. Course, shall this opportunity present itself somewhere down the line, after we've consummated our relationship, I wouldn't disapprove. There's also that thing about him not being with someone since 2001 that we still have to talk about, we just haven't had the time.

"What? He asks innocently, his eyes dancing playfully.

I put my hands on my hips and tap my foot on the floor. "What do you mean 'what?' Harm! I am not about to have sex with you in the supply closet!"

"Mac!" He says, exasperated. His face turns a few shades of red as his feet shuffle on the floor. "I was just trying to scare you. . .Jeez, you Marine's have a one track mind." And by the ninety shades of red on his face, I can deduce that sailor's minds are just as bad if not worse. "For one thing, there are more comfortable places, for another we don't have protection and finally. . ." He trails off as his eyes seek out mine, there is a look there, a cute look of love and tenderness that melts my heart. "Our first time _needs_ to be special. . .and I hardly think a supply closet at JAG is special." I nod stupidly and my traitorous body is overriding my mind who is agreeing with him. Right now, the way he looks, so sweet and charming, makes me want to have my way with him. "Of course, if you _want_ to have a little quickie, I wouldn't object." There goes his flyboy smile, shining at a billion watts. I am about to respond when Harm grabs my wrist. "Quick! Hide!" He says, yanking me into the supply closet with him. The door closes behind us with a quiet 'click.' I try to say something, but Harm quiets me. "Shhhh."

We're pressed up against each other, I imagine Harm's back is against the row of shelves. I can't see a damned thing, save for the little patch of light under the door which turns dark when someone passes by. Both of Harm's hands are on my hips and though I am terribly tempted to do something about it, I take a deep breath instead. "What was all that about?"

"Someone was coming." Harm says conspiringly, as if we were doing something wrong.

I move slightly away from him in order to put some space between us, which is difficult to do when the door is about six inches away from your back side. "Uh huh. As far as I remember, talking with a fellow co-worker is not a crime."

I literally hear the wheels in Harm's head churning, he's probably thinking of how much of a moron he is. Yep, I see us dating working out just swell. We've only gone out once and already he's acting like a lunatic. "Yea, well, what if they can beam into my head and figure out what I am thinking?" I bet he's grinning too, at least it sounds like he is.

"I'll make sure and tell Bud you were suggesting that, he may grab you to be a test subject or something." I chuckle, imagining Harm strapped onto some home made, electric chair looking device and Bud, dressed as a mad doctor asking him questions about telekinesis and other telewhatevers that people claim to have. "Anyway, as much as this was fun, I have a case to prepare for. . .Our young Lt. Commander is determined to give me a run for the money." I reach behind me to try and find the door knob, but when I turn it, nothing happens. "Uh, Harm?"

"Yea?"

I am slightly curious as to why this is happening and if he had this planned all along. I wouldn't put it past Harm to screw with the mechanism of the lock in order to trap me with him. "We're stuck."

"No we're not!" He yells slightly, obviously exasperated at this. "Here, move a bit, lemme try the door." We carefully change positions and I press myself up against the shelves as Mr. Wonderful works on the handle. I hear him groan, then jiggle the handle a second later, I hear something being yanked off followed by Harm elbowing me in the gut.

Doubling over, well as much as I can that is, I wheeze a few times, trying to catch the breath that has completely run from my body. "Jesus, Harm. . .If this is what dating you is like, I prefer staying single." I don't mean that, really I don't, but it all sorta just came out. Harm turns in our cramped space and I feel his hands roaming my body. Hands which I slap away out of reflex. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Trying to feel you. . ." He stops abruptly and chooses another form of words. "I mean, I am trying to feel where I elbowed you." I guide his hand to my abdomen and feel him run slow circles over the area. Oh God, does that feel nice, even over the fabric of my uniform. "I guess we're even now."

I sigh softly, you really can't stay too mad at Harm, even though I've tried. The guy just has this way of crawling back under your skin. "We are. . .Now what happened?"

"This happened." Something round and cool is placed in my hand and I don't need any lights to tell me that it's the doorknob. Christ, could this get any worse?

Groaning loudly, I pout in the darkness. "Jeez, Harm, what are you? The bionic man?. . .Okay, let's yell, someone can get us out, we can say we just. . .uh, I don't know, FELL in. . ." I am praying that whoever comes to our aid is enlisted. They won't ask, we won't have to tell and past a bit of scuttlebutt, we'll be able to put this behind us. Harm agrees and the moment we are about to yell, I hear the fire alarms going of.

"Oh shit!" We both say in unison. Of course, it would happen that we are stuck in a tiny supply closet, in the dark, with hardly any space to move during the fire drill which I scheduled as per the General's orders. "It's just a fire drill." I reassure my partner who I hear breathe a sigh of relief.

The alarm bellows for a full five minutes before it shuts off again. Now, I figure, we'll have to wait a good twenty minutes to half an hour for the offices to do a head count, find that we're missing, check that we aren't TAD and come looking for us. "This doesn't make things better. . .Now people will be worried about us."

"There are worse things that could happen." He says trying to pacify me, well that ain't working today, buddy!

"Oh yea, like us being caught in this tiny supply closet by the General. Nothing says 'permanent transfer to the Aleutians' better than that!" I shift slightly, brushing my body up against his when I hear Harm's breath hitch.

With a shaky breath he tells me. "Please don't do that. . .I honestly wouldn't be able to control myself if you rub up against me again."

I would chuckle at his admission if it weren't for the sound of his voice and how hitched it was. "I'll behave if you will." I try not to make my voice sound too bedroomish, but that fails as well.

"Ugh, don't talk either." Now that I chuckle and immediately he's irate. "Well, I am sorry I am a guy, who is rather attracted to you."

My chuckle turns into a giggling fit as his hands find my sides which he tickles. "Sorr-y. . .But. . .this. . .was your. . .idea." I say between laughs and move my hands to tickle him. A couple of minutes more pass by and we are both full out laughing when someone opens the door. Since I was leaning up against Harm who was leaning up against the door, we both fall out, me crashing over Harm who is laying on the ground.

"What the hell is going on here?" It's the General. Aleutians here we come! Well, knowing our luck, he'd probably send Harm somewhere else, Guam or something.

Harm slides out from under me with a speed that could have only been mastered in the Academy. This however, sends me to the floor, but he is quick to offer a hand and pull me up. "Sir, we can explain."

"Uh huh." He says as he glare turns into a scowl. Taking a glance behind the General, I find Sturgis, Bud, Coates and even Harriet. Uh, shoot me now please.

I decide to give my explanation a try, seeing as I tend to fumble less for words than my cohort over here. "The Commander was in the supply closet and I went looking for him for his opinion on my case. . ." I fake laughter, which Harm catches on and does himself.

Harm decides to pick up the story from there. "Well, she scared the shi. . .uh, crap out of me, sir and as a result, I guess I scared her and somehow we fell into the supply closet."

Okay, he's buying it, not all of it, but it's like a rent to own at the moment. "And why didn't you open the door and get out?"

Looking at the floor, I spot the door knob and carefully squat down to pick it up. "The sucker just came off, sir. . .We were about to yell for help when the drill began."

Creswell does that 'harrumphing' noise that, I swear, is bestowed to those in command and just starts to walk away. That's it? "Colonel, Commander, make sure that door knob gets fixed _today _and for the love of God, stay away from supply closets."

Sturgis, Bud and Harriet are chuckling away. Glad someone thinks this is all funny. I am sure I'll be amused at a later venue, but, this isn't it. Thankfully, I am the highest ranking officer. Three months senior to Harm and four to Sturgis. "Let's get back to work people, that's an order!" I really _hate_ giving orders to my friends, but, sheesh, Harm and I need all the breaks we can get. Turning to him, I find my partner-in-crime blushing slightly. "That shade is pretty cute on you flyboy."

"I'm sorry for this, Mac. . .I really didn't do this on purpose, just wanted to play with you." Again, I see him biting at his words, the look on his face is so cute, it makes me want to kiss him. And I do kiss him, just a little peck on the cheek.

I start walking away from him with an extra sway to my hips. "I'll see you tonight, Flyboy." I call over my shoulder as I hang a left and head into JAG ops.

TO BE CONTINUED. . .


	5. Another Kind Of Dessert

Didn't really beta this baby so all mistakes are my own! ;) Gets a little sappy at the end, but we all need a little sappy ever so often no? ;) 

Jackie 

Part 5 – Another Kind Of Dessert

It's the middle of the week and Mac invited me over to her apartment. Managing to duck out of ops three hours early, she called me around five to remind me that I was to bring dessert. Oh, did I forget to mention that this is a date? Yup, after the oddity that was our first real time out, we sort of agreed that it would be easier on the world and us if we stayed in our second time, then work from there. The idea seems great to me, but, I usually prefer dates on weekends where, if things should move into extracurricular activities, you have several days to enjoy it.

After work, I went home to change (there was no chance I was heading to her place in uniform) then swung by this Italian place that makes the best tiramisu I've ever had. In days of old, Mac and I, when cases were tough and needed a break, would head to that joint. I have a lot of very fun memories of Mac polishing off the tiramisu off of the spoon and me trying to find a way to sit as it always had an affect on me. So much for being "just good friends." If anyone believes that's all we've been, they are surely mistaken. Yea, so, we've never _been_ together. But Mac and I don't have to be romantically involved for people to deduce we're good for each other. Hell, the first time mom even heard me speak of Mac she got this silly expression and when I called her on it, she, not so subtly implied that I was smitten.

I step into the elevator of Mac's building and punch the number for the second floor. She always complains about my elevator, but this one, for being a more swanky place, travels at a snails pace. You could probably read War and Peace from cover to cover before you get to your destination. Seems this stupid thing can read my thoughts, it starts to make a god awful noise. Maybe I shouldn't have been so judgmental in my thoughts over the elevator because, apparently, it is now angry with me as it sits between the second and first floor with its emergency lights on. "Mac's going to kill me." I say, taking a gander at my watch to find I am already ten minutes late.

Are we cursed or something? Is there some crazy cosmic force that just _does not_ want us to be together? (Yes, he's called DPB, devil incarnate :P Sorry, random author's note.) With a huff, I dig the cell phone out of my jean pocket and dial a familiar number.

'Lieutenant Colonel MacKenzie' She sounds exhausted, hmmm wonder what she's been doing? When she asked me over, I forgot to ask her if she would be cooking or buying dinner. Hmmm, if she is cooking, I wonder what she'd be making? 'Hello?'

Woops! Stop thinking to yourself and answer the woman, Hammer! "Uh, Mac, hi. . .it's me. . .Harm." No, duh, like she doesn't' know your voice by now.

'You're late, flyboy. . .and by twelve minutes.' I would have thought ten, but okay, I won't argue with her sense of timing. 'You're not calling to cancel are you?' There is a disappointment in her voice as she adds on, 'I mean, I actually COOKED. . .I've spent two hours cooking. . .'

She sounds almost desperate and I smile at the thought that she wants to see me that badly. "No, I am not canceling, just called to let you know I am stuck in your building's elevator."

'Oh!' Mac says, sounding relieved and maybe a little foolish? I hear her mumble a few curses followed by a yelp and suddenly, I am panicking.

"Mac?" Okay, she's not answering! Why isn't she answering? "Mac? Are you there?" There's nothing on the line but a dead silence followed by that tone that tells you the conversation has ended. I try calling her line again, but she's not picking up. What the hell? Glancing around the elevator, I opt to try and pry the doors open. I've seen it done in movies and have no clue if it would work in real life, but here goes.

Using some, superhuman, Hulk-like strength I manage to pry open the elevator door only to find that I still have the outside door to contend with. Taking a deep breath, I try those doors as well. C'mon damnit! Budge you stupid, good for nothing. . .finally! Saying a silent prayer that this stupid thing won't start and cut me in half, I hop onto the floor above which is, thankfully Mac's floor. I run down the hall with whatever force I have left and bang on her front door. Damnit! No answer!

Fishing for my keys, I am shocked when I see the door open as if from its own volition. I walk in tentatively, taking in my surroundings noting that nothing was out of place. Okay, that is a good sign, but where is Mac? Walking into the kitchen I find hot pasta spilled over the floor. Well, at least it seems like it's hot if the steam rising from it was an indication. By the sink, I find the object of my. . .Never mind, I am at a loss to find something witty to say. "Mac?"

Stepping carefully around the spilled pasta, I move up behind only to find Mac running her left hand under the water. "Ooooh… Ahhh… Jeez." She mutters and as I peek down at her hand I find it an angry shade of red. "I was trying to move the pot of pasta into the sink to strain it, instead it decided to attack me." She looks at me for a moment and despite her pain, gives me this silly grin. "What's wrong?"

"What's wrong?" I ask in exasperation. "What's wrong! Well, for starters, we're talking, you yelp and the phone line goes to hell. . ." I really can not explain how hard my heart was thumping at my chest thinking a million things. Okay, so I am like a granny sometimes, but Mac and I have enemies. . .I have more than her but. . . whatever, I worry! "I had to pry open both sets of elevator doors." With a sigh my arms wrap around her and my mouth finds this spot on her shoulder which I kiss. "I am just. . .happy you're okay."

Mac turns to face me, but keeps her left hand under the running faucet. She has this totally cute expression on her face. "Wow, can't say I've ever had a guy attack and elevator for me." There is a hint of a tease, but there is something else in there, admiration maybe? Leaning in, she gives me this barely there kiss then smiles at me. "Thank you for caring, Harm."

I stand there in this stupid trance, with, I am sure, a stupid grin on my face. God, this woman is turning me to mush and I love her for it. "I um. . .yea. . .sure." Wow, smooth talker there, Harm. And you're a lawyer? Wow! Genius. Shaking my head, I stare down at her injured hand and frown. "How about we go get your first aid kit? I'll patch you up."

"What about dinner?. . .Without the pasta, it's pretty much ruined." She frowns slightly, I can tell she was really looking forward to this.

"Do you have more pasta?"

"Yea, in the cupboard, why?"

I take the box of noodles and rummage through her cabinets until I find a microwave safe bowl. In it I pour the pasta, a bit of salt and water before tossing inside the divine nuker and setting the timer. You just gotta love microwaves. "They'll be done in about fourteen minutes. . . Now, c'mon." I walk her through the apartment and for the first time notice just how _intimate_ things are. There are candles on the table, the fireplace is a'roaring and from her stereo, this slow, jazzy number is playing. "Hmm, been busy I see?" I ask as I sit her down on the bed.

Mac just stares at me with interest. "Yea, well. . .you want to uh. . .set a mood." I smile at her before heading into the bathroom to locate the first aid kit then return and place it on the bed as I sift through it for the burnt ointment. Locating it, I take a good look at Mac's hand, it's not too badly burnt, but there are one or two places which will blister if we don't get ointment on it and then bandage it. Doctor. Rabb to the rescue. That has a nice ring to it, doesn't it? Doctor Rabb. "What are you grinning about, flyboy?"

Hmm, I guess in my idiotic, self appreciating state, I managed to embarrass myself. With a shrug, I pour some ointment over her hand then use my fingers to smooth it over the burnt skin. "Just thinking. Just a few days ago you were taking care of me, now Doctor Rabb is taking care of you." I waggle my eyebrows for no other reason that just to tease her and Mac laughs. "Since this doesn't look too serious, you won't need to head to the doctor, ma'am." I say in my best doctor/corpsman/health whosywhatsy voice.

"Hmmm. . .that reminds me." Mac says, as grab the gauze from inside of the kit. "Was Renee the last woman you were with?"

Out it's own volition, the roll of gauze springs out of my hand, I bobble for it a few times but don't manage to catch it. So much for aviator's reflexes. The gauze rolls under the bed and I go after it, trying to retrieve it and also, trying to avoid he question. "C'mere you!" I come up to find Mac chuckling slightly. It's official, she _likes_ torturing me. "Uh, I got it."

"So I can see." She says glancing at me with an expression that clearly says 'Harm, I am not letting you off the hook.' Great, I am soooo screwed.

With a sigh, I start wrapping the guaze around her hand and that is when I get it all out, in a jumble, without pausing at all. "The last woman I was with was Renee and I wasn't that I haven't had another chance its just that I haven't wanted to be with anyone else don't get me wrong I find women attractive and all but it's just that they haven't really done it for me and I don't want to get into another fruitless relationship again and have it go all wrong because I just wasn't into it and frankly there are other forms of entertainment." Whew, what a mouthful and did I actually use the word 'fruitless?'

Well, the way Mac is starting at me with her mouth slightly open, I bet she's considering me to be a few cards short of a full deck. At this present time, I wouldn't disagree. "There are other '_forms of entertainment_'?" She asks and moves back slightly with a disgusted look. I raise my eyebrow in question.

'Oh, I get it.' I think calmly and smile at her, but then, I really _do_ get it. Harm, you moron! "Uh! No no! I didn't mean it in a sleazy way. . .God, I just realize I sounded like some guy who would you know pay for something like that and I won't do that because I. . ."

I feel her lips on mine, warm and sweet. Any other ramblings get completely cut short as my lips move with hers. With a sigh I part from her and stare into those chocolate depths that always have drowned me, always. "Harm, you talk too much."

Oh I couldn't agree more and when her lips take mine again for another kiss, all thoughts of conversing fly out the window. God, I am kissing Sarah MacKenzie. I am kissing Sarah MacKenzie on _her bed._ Wooh, things just can't get better. Well, yea they can, we could eat, have dessert, listen to nice music, _then _fall in bed. After all, that was in my plan anyway. Breaking our kiss, I offer Mac a hand and lead her through the apartment and into the kitchen where I put the finishing touches on the garlic shrimp and pasta.

Dinner was excellent, but so was the company. After dinner, I cleaned up the plates then made my way over to the living room where Mac was seated on the sofa. The jazz CD had stopped playing and when I went to start it again, Mac called me over. "Hey, where's dessert? You didn't forget did you?"

"Forget? Course not. . . why would I? Ugh!" Oh damn! In my rush to make it up to the floor to check on her, I'd forgotten all about the tiramisu. "I'll be right back!" Opening her door, I fly down the hall and staring to the elevator doors. I hit the down button a few times and when it finally 'dings' at my floor, I find that it's completely empty. With a defeated sigh, I let the doors close and trudge my way back to her apartment. Farewell tiramisu! **Aurevoir**dessert! **Auf wiedersehen!** Adios! I'd add something in another language, but I've run out of linguistic skills. As I head into the apartment, I find Mac staring at me with an overly amused expression. "Someone jacked my tiramisu." I say in a tone that sounds more like a child pouting for a toy.

Mac pats the sofa next to her and I head towards her like a puppy following a master. So pathetic am I and I love it. "Aww, I'm sorry, Harm." She wraps her arms around me, squeezing tightly then, all together lets go. "Did you say tiramisu?" I nod, completely enthralled as her hands move up to my hair. "From that Italian place we used to go to?" I nod again and am suddenly realizing, she's thinking more about the dessert than me.

I glance up at her for a moment. "Want me to go get another?"

Mac looks as though she's thinking about it. The temptation is just too much for her. Then again, as I get that mental image of her polishing off her spoon, I am suddenly willing to head on out and getting the delicacy. Instead, Mac smiles at me and shakes her head. "You know? I have all the dessert I want right here." Her mouth fastens itself onto my own and after a few short, but sweet kisses I know that tonight is the night. Thank you God!

Slow kisses soon turn into more passionate, ones that I can feel run through my body. One of her hands she's managed to slip under my long-sleeved t-shirt and it's running freely along my chest. "I want you." I get out with in a rush and Mac repeats the same words to me adding a 'too' at the end. We are about to round second base, when this shrill cuts through the air. For a moment, my brain starts gravitating to the fact that we should put the music louder if _this_ is what Mac sounds like when she is. . .uh. ..excited. Happily, I continue to kiss her, allowing my hands to wander down her back and under her t-shirt when that sound cuts through the air again. Suddenly, I am making out with air and that lovely warm body that was pressed up against mine is gone. I crack an eye open and find Mac standing by the sofa holding her cell phone. Ah, so that was the noise.

She grins at me and gives me that 'just a moment' look, giving me the chance to study my handiwork. Her lips are swollen from our kisses, her hair is a mess. That t-shirt is riding up on one side but fine on the other. But what gets me the most is the look on her face. Her eyes dance as they lock onto mine and I swear she is glowing. I can't help but think of how she's going to look after we make love. My heart swells a little bit at the fact that, tonight, I'll be sharing her bed. I hear her laugh and say something like, "I'll pick you up at the airport when you arrive sweetheart." And that little, disgusting, green monster rears it's ugly little head. "Okay, bye. . .I love you too." Mac, as though nothing had happened, slides next to me, then pulls me close. "Where were we?"

Uh huh, I am not letting that 'sweetheart' and 'I love you' slide on by, MacKenzie! She senses my hesitation to begin our activities again and does that eyebrow thing. Right now, I don't think it's cute. "Who's this sweetheart that you love so much?" I say, bringing my arms across my chest in an attempt to. . .to. . . I don't know? Look manly? Angry? Whatever!

Apparently my jealousy is amusing as Mac breaks out into a full out laughing fit. I don't find it funny, or even slightly hilarious. "Harm. . .are you. . . jealous?" She says between laughs. But, I am not one to stay around and be laughed at. And if she thinks I am going to share her, she's on crack. I go to stand up but, Mac pulls me back and in one swift movement is straddling my lap. "You have nothing to be jealous about." She says, as she starts kissing my face. "At all." Now she's kissing my chin, working her way down my neck and I hate that my traitorous body is responding to all of this. "Especially." She stops kissing and looks me in the eye. "of Chloe."

It doesn't take long for it to set in, at all and my cheeks start to burn. At least Mac is being a good sport about it and not digging into me any further. Though, by the look on her face, she is dying to do just that. Hmm, I try dissuasion. "Yea, I knew that." I say in tone that is a believable as I could muster. "I was just. . .messing with you." Riiiiiiiiight, which is why my face turned, I am sure, thirty different shades of red.

Mac nods. "Oh, okay. . .so where were we?" That's it? She's just going to let it drop just like that? I am inclined to pick a fight with her over it, but Mac's lips have a mind of their own, for that matter, mine are also busy. The woman knows how to kiss, how to apply the right pressure and when to let go. I am ashamed to say I've whimpered four times since we started kissing again. As she starts unbuttoning my shirt, I occurs to me that it's time to move this elsewhere. Not that I am partial to just the bedroom. God knows, I plan on exploring every place from the kitchen to the shower and everywhere in between, but, this is our first time. It needs to be special.

Thoughts of lighting candles and putting on romantic music flies straight out of my head as Mac's tongue swirls along my Adam's apple. That's it, this is going to happen NOW. With a superhuman force, I stand up and feel Mac's legs wrap around my waist. Our mouths are still fused as I try to make my way through her apartment, bumping into everything along the way. I hear the vase of roses, yea the ones from our first date, crash to the floor along with Mac's lamp from the table next to the sofa. Oh, the phone cord manages to get tied around my leg and I yank that to free us. Mac's chuckling between kisses. It isn't funny though! I am a man on a mission.

I finally get us to the door of her bedroom, but the door is closed. So, keeping one hand on Mac's. . .uh. . .six (you know, I wouldn't want to drop her or anything), I use my other hand to feel around for the knob and nearly topple us both into the bedroom. Whew! The woman has a voracious nature when it comes to kissing. Why hadn't we done this years ago? Better yet? Why didn't we just fall in bed the day we met? Would have saved us A LOT of heartache. I lay her on the bed and strip myself of my jeans and t-shirt, then find Mac staring at me with a sexy look as she curls her finger. "C'mere, sailor." She purrs in a voice that should be illegal and I find myself complying.

Hours later, somewhere around two am, I am still laying in Mac's bed with her warm body wrapped around mine. She's sleeping soundly, the rise and fall of her chest bringing me comfort as I lay alone with my thoughts of what happened tonight. I made love to Sarah MacKenzie. The thought just sends a tingle right through me and I wonder how, for so long, I could have evaded all I ever wanted. "Harm." I hear her groggy voice say as she snuggles herself closer to me. "I can hear the wheels turning in your head. . .shut them down for the night and go to sleep." Her eyes, half open slowly focus onto mine as this cute, lazy smile appears on those beautiful lips. "I love you. . .You know that don't you?"

"Yea, Sarah. . I know." My arms wrap tightly around her as my lips seek out her own. We kiss softly, sealing the end of the dance, but the beginning of something more powerful. "I love you, too." And I do, I really do.

TO BE CONTINUED...


	6. Salsa Lessons

This was a fun part to write. I'm Cuban. Well, relatively Cuban, my folks and whole family except for my generation was born there and my generation was born here in Miami. Anyway, point is, there is nothing sexier, imho, than a man that knows how to dance. Well, there are sexier things, but for this chapter, a little dancing is in. I got this idea from watching 'Dance With Me' with Cheyenne and Vanessa Williams for the 30th time on HBO. And a conversation my best friend and I had about her boyfriend's lack of dance skills. ;)

Thanks to: e-dog, Macaroon, BeachChick, Dessler, dansingwolf, Maria, blueangel, Vrbinka, BiteBeccy, SarahRabb, my.evian, anna, Jaggie107, snugglebug, Manda, Lisa, cbw, Xblue, froggy, aserene, crazybum, VrbinkaCZE, sally, trooper, starryeyes, Martini, NavyBabe, jaggurl, Nix, joanoa, jagdreamer, Kinga, JAGChic, Jagfan 724, littlemaccyd, ninjaturtle, blueangel, Kinga, JK, zoomie, myevian, CathyF, CBW, jagdreamer, joanoa, alix33, and mizukimar for the feedback:)

Part 6 - Salsa Lessons

I notice several things in Harm's apartment are out of place, like lamps and phones and such. No doubt, he didn't want the same war zone as my apartment. I am not sure if it was the passion, the heat, or maybe we are both two clumsy fools. But, this week, at my apartment, we managed to destroy two lamps, one phone, a vase and the bed. Yep, the bed. . .apparently, you have to tighten the bolts on the headboard, ironwork thing I have and on the frame. Well, I hadn't done that since. . .well, in a while, it's not like I've needed to. Of course, considering the fact that we didn't move from the bedroom all Friday night, Saturday night or Sunday morning, I guess it falling apart when we made to actually SLEEP on Sunday night was only acceptable.

Oh, who am I kidding? The poor bed has gotten more extracurricular usage than it ever has. Ever. And wow, was it. . .well, wow! It was sweet at first, very sweet. I can actually say I've never made love before until I met Harm. But, after the whole 'sweetness' wore off, we were like two teenagers who just stumbled upon the Kama Sutra, and I'll leave it at that. You can make your own conclusions. Suffice to say, I bet my downstairs and next door neighbors ain't happy.

I walk into his apartment to find what I can describe as sexy, Latin music playing through his stereo. In the middle of the apartment stands Harm with this really wicked grin. Okay? What gives? "What are you doing?" He has on these black dress pants, dress shoes and a partially buttoned dark blue shirt. Heard that word sexy? Well, that describes Harm to the 't'

He saunters over to me, places one kiss on my lips. One of his hands lands on my hips as the other outstretches my arm. "Teaching you to dance Salsa."

I eye Harm suspiciously realizing he's placed us into some sort of a dancing stance. "You know how to dance Salsa?"

"Si, amor mio. . .Se bailar Salsa muy bien. . . dicen que bailar es otra manera de ser el amor." I have little of a clue as to what he said, but I can feel myself drooling. All I can think is 'Aye papi!' Wow, I did NOT just think that!

Dumbly I nod at him as if I actually understood whatever he was saying. "Ah, whatever you said Harm has gotta be the hottest thing I ever heard a guy say."

He grins. "That was the point. . ." Harm sways his hip, effectively moving us side by side, ignoring completely the beat of the music.

His eyes bore into mine and I allow my body to give in. Okay, so he wants to teach me to dance Salsa, I'll dance Salsa. Still, I am curious as to what he mumbled before. Did he even have a clue? "So what did you say?"

"I said 'Yes, my love. . .I know how to dance Salsa well. They say that dancing is another form of making love.' Or something like that."

I am officially just a pool on the floor. A pool of drool. Harm eyes me like he wants to put me on a plate and have me for dinner, I expect him to kiss me senseless, but instead, he lowers both of his hands to my hips and gets me moving to the beat. "You're serious?"

"As a heart attack. . . Let's show you the basic move." He lets me go and puts his arms down to the side. Okay, so I'll be learning Salsa tonight, who knew? I place my arms down at my side and nod for him to proceed. "One thing, you have to do something you rarely do. . .let me lead."

I've danced with him before, slow songs, dance songs (which Harm looks as if thou someone stuck a frog down his pants) and of course, those waltzes at balls. But this is a bit impulsive, okay, I'll play along. "Okay, what do you want me to do."

Harm slowly slides forward his left foot and instructs me to slide mine backwards. "That's one. . .now bring that foot back to it's starting place. I'll do the same thing." Both our feet move back in place and then he instructs me. "Move your left foot forward and my right foot will move back. Good." He smiles, "Now to back to the starting place. Una ves mas. . .one more time."

We start the same 'move' again, my eyes staying on our feet as we shuffle in tandem. I'm tempted to let him know that I do know how to dance this, courtesy of an ex, but I'll let it slide. "So, when were you going to tell me you knew how to speak Spanish?" I've heard him say a few words in Spanish here and there when we've been down South, but I wasn't aware that he could ramble off more than a word or two.

"Maria Elena Carmelita Romero Guttierez." He says seriously, then starts to chuckle as I stare at him with a raised eyebrow.

Was that actually someone's name? "Maria WHAT?"

Harm chuckles again. "Maria Elena Carmelita Romero Guttierez. . .She was a Cuban girl, a flight attendant actually. . ."

He trails off and I stop moving. I am sure I am doing that laser beam stare, but really, he's with me and bringing up _another_ woman. How daft could a man get? "Please tell me you aren't going to go there, Harm."

"This was a long time ago. . .I haven't seen her since . . .well, pretty much since you came into my life." He adds with a genuine smile, nothing cheesy or slimy, just genuine.

I am not sure how to take that. And if he thinks I am going to believe I am the catalyst that made him change his womanizing days, he's got another thing coming. I move my foot backwards and place my hands on his hips to get him doing that little move again. "So I changed your wicked wicked ways?"

"Yup." He says simply, still moving with me. Uh huh, still ain't biting flyboy. "I don't know, Mac. . .You're the first girl I know that doesn't take my crap. . .I respect that." He grins then. "I mean, who else would I wait nearly ten years for?"

Okay, so he has a point there, I guess I could let little miss Carmelita and his relationship slide. Besides, if the woman taught him this whole Spanish, sexy side, I guess I don't have much to complain about, do I? I feel his hands move down my arms and to my hips. "You know, I think I have this movement down packed." I place my hand on his chest and push him backwards. Picking up the beat of the music, I feel my hips take a motion of their own.

"You know how to dance this." He says, surprised and all I could do is grin. His hands move on to my hips, we might not be the best dances of the planet, but this is very hot. I start to realize what he said about making love and dancing is true. Instead of looking at my feet, I dare to stare up at Harm who has this smoky look of desire. And all I can think is – wow!

"You're so sexy." He says in this low, bedroomish voice, then moves one hand up and outstretches my arm. We keep the same back, center, forward, center movement but just not in a straight line anymore. This time we're moving together, around a small circle in the room. "Keep that beat, don't lose it." He tells me and I feel the hand on my hip loosen as he uses it to push me backwards a bit. With his other hand, he pulls my body towards him, then twirls me around, stops and pushes me off again only to twirl me around again. Wow. We start that basic step again and Harm draws me closer to him. He lifts one of my arms up, over his head, draping it over his shoulders, then does the same with my other arm so that we have no space between our bodies. His forehead is against mine and I can smell that sexy scent of him and his cologne. I am tempted to start a whole different type of dance. Instead, I push him backwards and keep that same basic movement while I gyrate my hips in some sort of a 'come hither' type of movement. Harm's body presses up against mine and I swear, we could give Patrick Swayze, Jennifer Grey and their Dirty Dancing a run for their money.

The CD stops playing and Harm takes my hand, dragging me towards the door. "Woah, hey. . .what's going on?" Jeez, did I sound disappointed or what? Calm down, MacKenzie, calm down!

"Oh, we're going to a Salsa club." He says as if that were the most common thing in the world. Sure, maybe if we were in Miami, but this is DC. "There's a club just outside of DC. . .I thought it would be fun."

Hmmm, fun? Actually, my idea of fun would be him, me and our own private dancing. But, Harm is giving me this puppy dog look. . and, yea, okay, I shouldn't give in, but I do. "Oh, alright, flyboy. . .Let's go burn up the dance floor."

Four hours later, we are walking in through his apartment door, still dancing. I have to admit the atmosphere, the music, and Harm made it all awesome. It was pretty liberating dancing in such a sexy way in front of other people. I make my way over to Harm's stereo to put on another Salsa number, when his hand takes mine. "Flyboy, just let me put another song on."

"Oh no no no." He says as he effortlessly lifts me into his arms. "I think it's time we make our own kinda music."

And who am I to disagree? I kiss him gently on the lips, then a bit deeper and passionately. "Hmm, I think you just had the best idea ever." I shouldn't be stroking his ego too much, he already had a bit too much fun showing me off tonight. As he carries me to bed, I think about that point. Before, it would really irritate me that men would sometimes use me like some sort of trophy. It always made me feel a bit cheap, despite how much they said they 'loved' me or 'respected' me. But, somehow with Harm I don't feel like a trophy and I don't feel cheap, just flattered. As I stare up at my lover, I can't help but ask. "Sooo, you gonna do that hip gyrating, pelvic thrust thing you did on the dance floor, Travolta?"

Harm turns about twenty shades of red as he lets out an exasperated, "Mac!" Yep, apparently once a boy scout, always a boy scout. And I love him for it.

TO BE CONTINUED...


	7. Quashing The Scuttlebutt

Told ya, these I post when I have something to write, this was just... Ugh, I had to. ;)

Hope you like it!  
J.

Thanks to: e-dog, Macaroon, BeachChick, Dessler, dansingwolf, Maria, blueangel, Vrbinka, BiteBeccy, SarahRabb, my.evian, anna, Jaggie107, snugglebug, Manda, Lisa, cbw, Xblue, froggy, aserene, crazybum, VrbinkaCZE, sally, trooper, starryeyes, Martini, NavyBabe, jaggurl, Nix, joanoa, jagdreamer, Kinga, JAGChic, Jagfan 724, littlemaccyd, ninjaturtle, blueangel, Kinga, JK, zoomie, myevian, CathyF, CBW, jagdreamer, joanoa, alix33, arian, and mizukimar for the feedback:)

Part7 – Quashing The Scuttlebutt

St. John's Tavern is bustling, as it usually is on Friday nights, and I walk in at a quarter to ten. It being farther away from the office was a good place to meet and not be seen. Mac and I hadn't really discussed us coming out into the open and it was better not to chance things so early in the relationship. There is the usual gang shooting darts and playing pool. A small group of couples are dancing to some whinny, annoying country song about love. Something about a man and a cow or something stupid like that. I am tempted to head over to the jukebox and put something better, but I hesitate and opt to wait for Mac to join me. For the last week I've been aboard a carrier, going over some of the dumbest cases of my JAG career, but, they needed me as their JAG requested leave so he could be home for some family something or other. Through e-mails Mac and I stayed in contact, and apparently, we have a new guy aboard, a Lieutenant. I told her that it's nice to have new blood onboard, but Mac believed otherwise. Makes me wander if he did anything to piss of my Marine.

I hop up onto a barstool and work on lighting my cigar. Yep, I've taken to smoking again and all over the span of one week. Keeter and I managed to meet up on the carrier and as a gift he handed over a box of Monte Cristos. I was tempted to toss them out, but when the sweet aroma filled my nostrils, I was hooked again. Luckily for me, I never tossed out the humidifier nor any of my cigar smoking accoutrements. All along, I think I knew I'd eventually fall back into my little addiction, but, I am sure that when Mac sees me smoking, the only addiction I'll have is her. I am not sure what bothered her more – the fact that I was addicted or the smell.

With a stupid grin, I think back to the conversation we had over IN. IM? IS? ABC, 123? What is that thing called? Where you type and talk. . . Oh, yea! IM – Instant Messager. Whatever, but Bud set it up on my laptop and it's been a godsend. That was until Mac decided to uh get a bit uh. . .uh, provocative over chat. I mean, we were in different time zones, it was night time at her place and. . okay, it was MY idea to have a little. . .fun. We were adults, consenting adults, right? It's perfectly normal for a sailor to want to chat about. ..fun things to his totally hot girlfriend, right? Well, so we started and Mac was EXTREMELY willing to go along. It felt stupid at first, I mean typing the whole 'What are you wearing?' thing. Somehow I felt like an Internet pervert. Which would be why the first ten minutes was nothing but me chuckling at the screen. For God sakes, Mac was probably wearing those cowboy pajamas and I am here trying to envision her in something lacy and racy. – Her words not mine! Boy did I blush. . I felt like a teenager on his first time with a girl.

So, yea we managed to get through the whole. . ugh, thing and towards the end someone's banging on my door. It was the Skipper with some pertinent information for my case and I was left, sitting in my chair in nothing but boxers and with obvious evidence that I wasn't doing anything that officerly or gentlemanly. Snapping the laptop shut, I hop into my cot and call him in, pretending to have a touch of the stomach bug. And it worked! Well, it worked until my laptop decided to chime. See, I have a moody laptop and since the time I closed it and it decided never to come out of hibernation, I decided to change the settings so that it would remain on, even if I closed it. Bad idea.

The skipper saunters over to it, flips it open and turns bright red. "Uh, carry on, Commander. . . Meet with me in five. . ." He says, then scans the laptop once more. "Uh, make that twenty." Thankfully, he didn't really touch upon that subject again until my departure where he simply said, with a grin. "I bet you have someone happily waiting for you at home." Then he smacked me on the shoulder and ushered me off in a 'Way to go, Harm!' sorta way.

Chuckling to myself, I look around the bar wondering if the object of my affections has arrived. Nope, not at all. Besides, I would know if she were there, Mac and I have always had this cosmic charge, an electric pull. I sigh sappily again – pathetic and in love – and wonderfully happy about it. I've been smiling so much it hurts. As I turn to look up at the screens, there is some TV show on about military lawyers and such called JAG. Wow, someone actually cares about what we do? I read the close captioning deducing that the male and female protagonists must be in love with each other, but dancing around their relationship. I snort at the thought. "Good luck, buddy." If the woman the male lead was perusing is anything like Mac, he's going to have to be a little more willing to fight fire with fire.

Turning to the side, I find a man, probably in his early thirties of dark hair and light eyes, grinning at me. He eyes me with this look that, I guess can be considered. .. uh, lust? I cringe inwardly, tempted to tell him that I am not interested and am certainly _not_ his type, when he points at the cigar. "Monte Cristo's, huh? Not a bad choice."

Okay, so is he flirting with me or not? Please, let it be a not. "Yea, a friend sent a box over for Christmas." I lied, not eager to start a conversation about me being on a carrier. Most people want to know about the life and if you don't end the conversation quickly, you'll spend the whole night on your life's story followed by trying to evade the answer to the million dollar question – Have you killed anyone? - So, instead I charter out of those waters, besides it's not only military folk that head into St. John's Tavern. "I quit a while back, but, they are difficult to give up."

"I quit about six months ago, myself. . .but still, I miss it." Waving the bartender over, the guy orders a shot of tequila and a pint of stout.

The bartender, a cute, blond girl looks me up and down and leans indecently over the bar. "Hi there, handsome. . .Wanna wet your whistle?"

I smile at her and order a "Bourbon, thanks."

She glances at me and then to the guy next to me and then glances back at me and winks. "Right away, sugar." Ah, nothing like good service.

The guy next to me watches her walk away, practically drooling at the blonde's six. "You're a lucky guy, she didn't even notice me." I want to laugh out loud, but bite my inner cheek instead. Behave, Hammer, behave! He glances up at the TV show, which has just come back from commercial and whistles when the female lead shows up in nothing but a fuzzy pink towel. "Damn, she's fine." He states with interest and I wonder if his eyes are about to fall out of his head yet. Okay, so he was definitely _not_ hitting on me, thank God!

I raise my eyebrow with interest. "Yep, she is." Though, my brain immediately conjures up the recurring dream I have of Mac stepping out of my shower in nothing but a very small blue towel. That fantasy hasn't been explored yet. Hmmm… I believe I am going to have to ask her to stay over at my place more often and make sure I have plenty of small blue towels. I grin evilly to myself. Then again, maybe I could just _ask_ Mac if she wanted to live out a fantasy. I am sure she wouldn't say no, especially after letting me know that Cybersex had been one of her fantasies. I chuckle openly, and my drinking buddy just eyes me like I've lost my mind. "Sorry, just have a lot on my mind." Well more like a certain person on my mind. The barkeep comes back with a sexy smile as she places the drinks on the bar and gazes lovingly at me. I smile back politely and have this morbid curiosity to what Mac would think of this.

The guy nods, downs his tequila before starting to nurse his beer. "Yea, I know what that's like. . .This week I find out that I have to work under a woman. . .A woman, can you believe that?"

I shrug. "That's not so bad." I am about to go off in a tangent about how working with women can be fun and stimulating (not that way!). How some are even better than the men, when visions of Alison Krennick pass fleetingly through my mind. "Well, okay, it can sometimes suck, but for the most part, working with women has been a pleasure."

My new buddy nudges me in one of those 'way to go!' type of gestures. "I've had those types of pleasure myself. . .Never works out in the end though."

I groan audibly. "I didn't mean it that way. . .For instance, my partner is a woman and she does her job better than any man can." And since we've been together romantically, it hasn't upset the balance of work. Miraculously, we managed to put work and our private life aside. Hell, if Bud and Harriet can do it, so could we!

The guy scoffs at my comment and his eyes travel back to the TV and the now, fully clothed actress. "Well, I just started being trained by a woman who has got to be the biggest ball buster on this planet. . .I do one little thing against her wishes and she's suddenly threatening to tell the higher ups."

I chuckle slightly. "Some advice, don't do anything behind her back. Be upfront, it usually works better." When he goes back to staring at my cigar, I roll my eyes and reach in to grab another. "Here, consider it a consolation gift." The guy eagerly takes it and a few seconds later he's puffing away. "My name's Harm, by the way." I reach out and take his hand which he shakes.

"Gregory Vukovic, you can call me Vic." Happily, Vic took a swig of his beer then nodded towards the TV. "Military shows are so full of crap, that whole dating thing never works."

Months earlier I would have conceded to that, but things changed. Also, I honestly believe that if Mac and I worked at the post office we'd still have gone through years of status quo. I think it's our personalities, the fact that we tend to argue so much over things instead of giving in. At least, we're trying to work on that. "Sometimes it's like the fates are intent in screwing the relationship up."

Vic nods. "Yep, then you got all of those regs to worry about. . . You piss off the wrong CO and next thing you know, you're on a ship to the Aleutians."

We both chuckle at that, and I am reminded of Mac and how apprehensive she was at having Creswell around, how she was worried he'd separate us. Though, looking at our new JAG, I wouldn't be too sure about him separating us. I think, if we kept our noses clean, he really wouldn't mind. Well, I hope. He didn't really say anything about us being stuck in the closet. Maybe he is waiting for us to attack each other in the office before calling us to his realm. "Damnit! Damnit! Damnit!" I curse, then smack my forehead against the bar. I was supposed to call her tonight when I got home. I mean we made it a date to meet at St. John's Tavern but that was over two days ago. Did she forget? Maybe, which would by why she left me a message on my e-mail: _'Flyboy, just want to know if you are okay. Call me when you get in tomorrow. – Love, Mac.'_

Turning to look at Vic he has this look like I've completely lost it. Well, I have. "You alright there, Harm?"

"Thinking about a girl." I confess without preamble. Not like it matters, I doubt I'll see Vic around much after tonight. Besides, sometimes it's good to let things out. "There's a girl. . .well, a woman I've had feelings for. . .it's been. . .Jesus, nine years and we finally just connected."

His eyes widen, I am sure it's the fact that a man can last nine years with a woman that has him shocked. "You waited that long for a girl? What are you? A priest?"

I chuckle slightly "Nope. . .we've always been close, best friends. . .but it just wasn't the right time, I guess. . .And it's not for lack of trying. ..when she was ready, I wasn't. When I was ready, she wasn't . . but now it's working out nicely."

"So what is it about this woman that has you so into her?" He yells over the now, pop-rock music blaring over the damned speakers. "You can't be hung up over just some girl."

I strain to hear, but pick up on what he is saying. "Well, she's isn't just _some_ girl. She's a Marine."

He moves back a bit, looking shocked. "A Marine? As in US Marine Corps?"

"Know any other type of Marine?" I grin, thinking of Mac in her Marine Greens. I swear those uniforms were designed with her in mind. I've never seen a woman in uniform look so good. All I can say is 'semper fi!'

"Okay so tell me more." He urges, taking a long pull from his beer, then ordering another shot of tequila.

"Well," I begin, pausing slightly to gather in thoughts of Sarah MacKenzie. "She's tough, sexy, sweet, makes me think, keeps me on my toes. . .Her laughter is like music, her smile breaks down all of those walls you try to bring around you. . .and her eyes. . .Jesus, her eyes are like. . .chocolate. Molten chocolate and when she looks at you the way she does me. ..you feel invincible." And in that moment, after all of the adjectives and phrases I used to describe Mac, I remember just what it is that I feel for her. "I love her. . .I'm in love with her."

Vic nods ruefully. "I felt something like that for a girl once, but we split up . . big difference of opinion. . .and now, I'm stuck working with her. . .She thinks I am slime though."

I'm about to interject something when I see her walk in through the door. My smile immediately goes up in wattage. "Mac!" I yell, then stand to make my way over to her. Once we meet, my lips immediately fuse onto hers. She kisses me as if it had been years, not days, since we last saw each other. Then, for good measure, she kisses me again, deeply. Somewhere around that time I realize we are making a spectacle when a group of twentysomethings start 'ooohing and ahhing.'

Grinning, I take Mac by the hand and lead her to where my stool is. She glances down at the cigar and frowns. "I knew you and Keeter shouldn't hang out together anymore."

"It's just one, I promise I won't smoke them all the time."

She grins slightly. "I'm holding you to that."

Behind her I notice Vic looking at her up and down, doing what I call 'the elevator.' Now, I know you are wondering: what is the 'the elevator?' Simple, really. It's when a guy checks a woman out, ogling her up and down. Well, it's just not a guy checking a woman out, it can work for any coupling. But you get the idea, the up and down ogling is the elevator effect. Hence, 'the elevator.' I got the whole term from Mattie who told me once that a guy had 'elervated' her. I wasn't sure what she meant and was tempted to kill the kid until she explained. After that, I just wanted to maim the kid. Well, sue me, I was, technically, like her father. I have a right to worry!

So, back to Vic, he's sitting behind Mac, elervating her and suddenly this primal, barbaric thing courses through me. I want to throttle him, but before I get a chance to say much, the slimeball decides to speak up. "Colonel, surprised to see you here." Oh, so this jerk knows her? Greaaat!

Mac's jaw tightens as she turns around to glance at Vic. "Lieutenant, fancy meeting you here."

"Pleasure's all mine, Ma'am and I didn't know you were with someone." He says and I suddenly get it. Vic's the guy Mac's been training and by the way he was ogling her, I understand her. . .hesitation to enjoy his company. He's not a bad looking kid, I notice, but, apparently, he missed the OCS memo on how to behave in front of a senior officer. "Harm and I were chatting it up."

Mac turns to me and glares which makes me believe I am in trouble. I'm tempted to ask 'what did I do?' When she turns fully to Vic. "Commander Harmon Rabb Junior, this is Lt. Vukovic, the new guy."

Vic's face is suddenly pale white. "Oh. . Uh, s-sir. . ." I bet he's re-thinking all of the little comments he made about his female trainer. God, this is suddenly amusing, even the bartender girl is laughing at him. "Nice to meet you."

"So, we going to dance, flyboy?" Mac says, turning back to me. She puts her hands in my pockets, searching around for some change then pulls out a few quarters. "Ah, cool! I'll go put something good on." Leaning in, she kisses me on the lips, winks and then heads off to the general vicinity of the jukebox. God, I love that woman.

I smile at Vic who can't seem to sit still anymore. Hmmm… fun, he's perturbed. I like this. "Some kinda ball buster, isn't she?" I say, not even able to conceal my smirk.

"Sir, I apologize about what I said. . ."

I wave off any attempts of his and remind myself to keep an eye on Lieutenant Sleaze. "Don't worry about it, Lieutenant." I hear this slow, sultry, instrumental number over the speakers, followed by Mac's voice beckoning me to join her. I put a ten on the bar for my drink, leave whatever is left of the cigar and make to head her way. Hmm. . .but that's a little too easy and this is _my_ girl we're talking about, the one that took me so long to get to. Stopping abruptly, I turn back to Vic and move in close enough. "Incidentally, if I ever so much as hear about you disrespecting the Colonel again, you'll be facing charges, Lieutenant." I pat him on the shoulder and grin. "By the way, keep all scuttlebutt about the Colonel and I to yourself." Patting him again, I noticed I used a bit too much force, well at least that is what his groan tells me. "Have a good one."

I head across the tavern and slip into Mac's waiting arms. "So, what were you talking about?"

I glance over at Vic, noting that he's way too enthused with the commercials on TV. I bet he's thinking a few things over, like what I'd do to him if he disrespects Mac again. "Oh, nothing much really. . .But I believe the Lieutenant has a new respect for senior officers."

...To Be Continued…

NK – Anything is better than their status quo LOL!

Arian – Thak you for the three in a row. :) E-mail me about the jagnick board, I usually post only in three places for my sanity but I can post over there – radiorox(at)bellsouth(dot)net

Xblue – Did Calix let you out yet? BTW – Love ya, too!

BeachChick – It's fun to dance, sexy as hell and occasionally depressing – Which cracks me up – You'll see people smiling away and dancing and the lyrics are like the 'get the razor blade and kill yerself' type. Hehehe.

Alix – No, what I meant to say that he looks like someone stuck a frog down his pants when he dances to 'American' music, like techno and stuff. Trust me, it is possible! Painfully possible. :grumbles something about a certain male in Miami: - But no, the Salsa dancing:thud: Harm would be very good at. ;)


	8. Papercuts and the Paper Shredder

This is a slightly cheesy section, but I had a paper cut when I wrote it and the paper shredder incident did happen. Not to me, and not that way, but to a friend of mine with a chain. Was really funny after we yanked the power out. Irronically, the paper shredder still works! The chain though, ugh. . .not so much. :)

Jackie

Thanks to: e-dog, Macaroon, BeachChick, Dessler, dansingwolf, Maria, blueangel, Vrbinka, BiteBeccy, SarahRabb, my.evian, anna, Jaggie107, snugglebug, Manda, Lisa, cbw, Xblue, froggy, aserene, crazybum, VrbinkaCZE, sally, trooper, starryeyes, Martini, NavyBabe, jaggurl, Nix, joanoa, jagdreamer, Kinga, JAGChic, Jagfan 724, littlemaccyd, ninjaturtle, blueangel, Kinga, JK, zoomie, myevian, CathyF, CBW, jagdreamer, joanoa, alix33, arian, and mizukimar for the feedback:)

Part8 – Papercuts and the Paper Shredder

Papercuts suck! That is my motto for the day; my mantra until the throbbing pain subsides. Now tell me, how is it that this tiny, itty bitty, teeny weenie, wittle, stupid cut hurts worse than getting shot in the leg? And _I_ should know because _I've_ been shot in the leg! Ok, MacKenzie, it's just a cut, guts aren't pouring out of there or anything like that. You are a Marine! Okay, deep breaths, in and out and in and out. Ignore that your stupid boyfriend. . .er – coworker is glaring at you like you've lost your mind. Ignore the fact that there is _now _this little patch of blood on your skirt. Well, it was either wipe it there or suck on my finger and I don't think the General would like that too much.

Not to mention. . .hehehehe. . .I can imagine what it would do to Commander Hotness sitting next to me. Somehow, thinking about Harm makes the pain subside, just a little. I glance over at him and smile slightly which causes him to shoot me an odd look. We still haven't exactly told anyone about _us._ Well, Lieutenant Can't Follow The Rules knows, but after that little convo at St. John's, he barely even looks at me. "Colonel?" Which is a good thing, I mean, he is a cute kid, but, that's just the point, he's a _kid_. "Colonel?" And one that hasn't learned how to work well with others or, for that matter, respect senior officers. And the way he's just ga ga over anything with legs is. . .well, nauseating. "Colonel?"

I sigh sappily and turn to my lover. Hehehe, L-O-V-E-R, Harm is my lover. I really can not get that thought out my head. I mean how could you fathom that after all of this time suddenly we're "COLONEL!" Oooh, that's me isn't it?

Turning slowly to Creswell I find him sitting there with nostrils flaring. "I apologize, General. . .I've ha d a lot on my mind." Oooh kill me now. My cheeks are burning and Bud, Sturgis, Lt. Slick, Coates, Lt Mayfield _and_ Harm are staring at me like I've lost my mind. Actually, I don't know how Harm is staring at me, I'm reluctant to look over and give us away. Yea, that after I was going over the fact that he was my. .

"Colonel? Hand me the paperwork on the Zimmerman courtmartial." Uh huh, sure. I reach over to hand him the paper and really, it's not my day. Woosh! I get _another_ papercut.

This time, I can't help but yelp and stick my finger in my mouth. Ugh, shoot my now. "Very sorry, sir, seems the paper has it in for me today." I waggle my fingers showing the three Papercuts (Oh yea, I got another one over by the fax machine.) and everyone chuckles.

Well, after finishing the meeting from hell, I start to make my way towards the office when Harm leans in and whispers. "See, that's what you get for making goo goo eyes at me during meetings."

Grabbing him by the wrist, I drag him into my office and close the door. "I was _not_ making goo goo eyes at you, Commander." I probably was, but I am not going to give him the satisfaction of winning _this_ round.

But, Harm, in his most charming way crosses his arms and just grins at me. "You were making goo goo eyes at me and then got the papercut." His grin is just much broader as I roll my eyes at him.

"Doesn't mean I was thinking about _you."_ Hehe, this is fun, this new teasing and banter. We've been professional cept for that supply room fiasco, but, past that, we do keep things a miiiiiiiiile away from work. "Now if you don't mind, Commander, I have work to do." He leaves my office with this totally charming smile.

Later that evening, I head over to Harm's apartment. We're supposed to be defending some psycho client and Lt. Slick and Turner are prosecuting. Poor Sturgis. I use my key to open the door, seeing Harm is probably out picking up something for dinner. With a shrug, I head towards his bedroom, and rummage through a shelf in his closet that Harm cleared to put my things on. I really isn't a big deal, but to me, wow, for a guy to clear out a _shelf_ for any girl. . .it was nice, especially since I am dating Mr. Self-professed Anti-Romantic. I grab a big fluffy, blue towel, and place it on the head, then step into the shower. The first time I showered in here, I was a bit uncomfortable. I mean, you know no one can see you, but these blocks are. . .odd. Made me wonder what sort of a pervert Mr. Rabb could be. I giggle at the though. Naw, Harm's a boyscout, a wonderfully sexy boyscout.

After showering, I wrap the towel around myself and step out towards his bedroom. I hear this loud noise, sounding something like a shredder coming from the living room. Through the louvered windows, I catch Harm bent over the shredder apparently trying to unclog it from whatever was shoved in there. Ooooh, and he's shirtless. Ummm. . .the possibilities. I head on down the steps and over to the sailor. Gently I clear my throat, preparing to drop my voice a few notches and that is when he notices me. "Hey sailo. ."

"Ugh!" Not to sure how he managed it, but his dogtags have just gotten caught in the blades of the shredder. I race across to him and yank the shredder out of the wall socket. Harm is still bent over trying to pull the chains out, but only seems to get them stuck even more. "Uh, a little help here!"

Shaking my head, I reach around his neck and unclasp the tags. With a giggle, I look down at him. "You okay?"

Harm cracks his neck then straightens out and glares at me. "Yea. . .but this happened because of you."

"Me?" I feign innocence and tug up at the towel which was starting to slip just a bit. "What did I do?"

He fingers the end of the towel and comes up close to me. "Well, did you notice what you are wearing?" Yup, I got him, hook, line and sinker. Though, mental note, don't go near Harm when he's working with the paper shredder.

"It's a towel, so what? I doubt I am the first woman you've seen wrapped up in a towel." I grin up at him and I swear he seems to change colors.

"Hmmm." He says, then appears to look thoughtful. "Would I be too forward if I say this is a _major_ fantasy of mine?" I don't know how he did it without me noticing, but, somehow he lifted me up into his arms and is carrying me towards the bedroom.

"Fantasy huh?. . .So what other fantasies do you have?" I ask with a sultry voice as he lays me in the center of the bed. So much for work. Well, at least we're protected from those pesky papercuts and paper shredders…

TO BE CONTINUED


	9. Terms Of Endearment

Sorry for lack of posting on this or the new story. These two weeks have been h. Making a long story short - Work got in the way, my stomach was having issues, I had my wisdom teeth coming out (got it removed yesterday - THANK GOD! - If it was closer, I'd have gotten pliers and yanked it meself:P), well I got another cold (dentist suspects that the tooth lowered my immune system and since it was so far back and near my throat it just got me sick.) And, the coud de gras - I sliced my thumb on Sunday trying to cut some veggies for some dish my grandmother was making. I probably needed stitches, but I am not a doctor fan superglue worked though. Yes, I am insane. . . So there, I plead my case, but I did work on this. I am hoping that tomorrow, I'll start posting 'The Thin Line.' Going to give it a read tonight, and add a few things. The first few chappies are very heavy Harm and Mac before we jumble it up. ;)

Thanks for sticking by guys! You rock my world. :) Hope everyone had a Happy Easter!Jackie

Thanks to: e-dog, Macaroon, BeachChick, Dessler, dansingwolf, Maria, blueangel, Vrbinka, BiteBeccy, SarahRabb, my.evian, anna, Jaggie107, snugglebug, Manda, Lisa, cbw, Xblue, froggy, aserene, crazybum, VrbinkaCZE, sally, trooper, starryeyes, Martini, NavyBabe, jaggurl, Nix, joanoa, jagdreamer, Kinga, JAGChic, Jagfan 724, littlemaccyd, ninjaturtle, blueangel, Kinga, JK, zoomie, myevian, CathyF, CBW, jagdreamer, joanoa, alix33, arian, Lurkz, and mizukimar for the feedback:)

Part 9 – Terms Of Endearment

"You are such a dork!" I turn very dramatic and slow to face the entryway to Mac's kitchen. It's Saturday afternoon and I agreed to make her some Fettuccini Alfredo with Italian chicken. Which is basically a glorified way of saying: chicken marinated in Italian dressing. Anyway, she had to head out to Norfolk at the last moment Friday night because a client of hers decided to run. That resulted in her staying at the VOQ and having to head back today. Whilst she was away, Harmon Rabb decided to play.

Grinning, I spy Mac in jeans and one of my old Naval Academy T-shirts that she's managed to expropriate. Damn, she looks cute. Even cuter though, is the fact that she is standing there in jeans and t-shirt holding a stuffed, lime green, rather large, some-sort-of-dactyl. It's that dinosaur that flies?

This morning I decided to take little AJ and Jimmy out for some godfather-godson bonding. When I was busy spoiling them at the Smithsonian's gift shop, and picking up a few things for the twins, little AJ pointed at this large selection of stuffed dinosaurs. "Want to get one for Aunt Mac, buddy?" AJ nodded enthusiastically and picked the lime green. . .uh. . . petroleumdactyl. .no no, close but no. . .Ah! Pterodactyl! Whatever fur they used on the dino was great, soft, fluffy and fuzzy. I think it's made from that company that makes those stuffed toys for infants? You know? The soft, fluffy and fuzzy kinds that you can't rip the hair out of?

So, anyway, back to Mac. What did she just call me? "Did you just call me a dork?" I lean against the counter placing my hands on my waist.

Mac walks over to me, still holding the stuffed dino. She has this bright smile that is lighting up her kitchen even more. "Yup, you're a dork."

"You do know that dork means whale penis, right?" At least, that is what I read once.

But, she seems to disagree. "Nope, it means a human one, then around 1967 people starting referring to stupid or obnoxious people as 'dorks.' Maybe _I am_ using the wrong adjective though." She gets this playful look in her eyes and I am here stuck trying to remember how to breathe again. How does she do this to me? And why, after so many years of hiding it, is it so difficult to hide now? "Nah, yer definitely a dork." She giggles, and leans in to kiss me. The dinosaur is shoved between us as Mac is clutching it like a little kid with a new gift. "Thank you." She says softly as we break apart.

Still, I have something that needs to be answered. "Why am I a dork?"

Mac starts laughing and leans against the counter still clutching the dinosaur. "You are so full of crap sometimes, Harm. That's why you're a dork." Okay, sorry, I don't get it. Maybe we men really _are_ obtuse. No, I take that back! I will not destroy the good name of our gender. She lets out an indignant huff and rolls her eyes. "Okay, I know I'll have to clarify so here goes. . .You said you're an Anti-Romantic. That the whole romance thing isn't real, it isn't for you. . .yadda yadda yadda. But. . ." She trails off and sets the dinosaur on the counter. Mac studies it for a moment then turns and smiles brightly at me. "No man has ever been this sweet. . .or, dare I say, romantic, to me."

I raise an eyebrow in confusion. Since when is a stuffed animal romantic? "It's just a stuffed dinosaur, Mac."

"Yes it is." She nods in agreement. "But, it also means that you bothered to pay attention to my interests." I am about to argue that point as well, when she raised her hand and shuts me up. "The roses, the table set up with candles, the soft music. . .We never did that before as friends. . .Yet, you do it now that we are together. . .that, my friend, _is _romantic."

You know, it never really occurred to me that the things I have been doing had any element of romance. I've been trying to set a mood to keep us both in that, feel good state when enjoying intimate encounters such as dinner and well. . .other things. I turn and start to stir the pasta which has decided to chose this inopportune moment to stick. "So did you like the dino?"

Out of the corner of my eye I see her gently take him off of the counter and hug it tight. "I LOVE him. Petey is just cute!"

"Petey?"

"Yes, Petey the Pterodactyl." I raise my eyebrow and am about to ask where that name came from when Mac produces the tag and shows me it's name. "See – Petey the Pterodactyl." She laughs again then gives me a kiss on the cheek before adding a final. "Dork."

I let her walk off, then start to take the dishes onto the table. Mac puts Petey down on one of the other chairs and heads into the kitchen to get the rest of our meal. "You know, MacKenzie, there are _other_ terms of endearment that we can consider."

"Oh really?" She says, heading out with the sauce and pasta.

"Yup." Sitting down, I immediately start dishing up our plates as Mac heads into bring back some mineral water. "Scnookums, cupcake, sweetums, muffin, honeybun. . .sugarlips. . ." I trail off when I note the look of annoyance Mac is shooting me.

"Say any of that to me out loud and I swear, I will not be responsible for my actions." She chuckles slightly, shaking her head. "Sugarlips?" She swallows down a bit of food then gives me this cute, mischievous little look. "How about sweet-thing?"

"Sweet-thing?" I choke out. It's unbelievable that she remembers that. God, I wanted to crawl under the rug in Chegwidden's office after I let that little term sneak out.

Mac grins and this conversation is taking an interesting turn. "Yes, I remember, quite well, really. . . You called me that once." I figure it will stop there, but after a few more bites of fettuccini, she continues to tease me. "And you reached out to touch me. . .You had this look of confusion, it was actually pretty cute."

"Ah, yea, well, I. . ."

"And then you changed the conversation. Pass the garlic bread please." I reach across to her and hand the bread basket over. She takes one slice and starts munching on it thoughtfully. Sighing dramatically, she props her head up with her hand and glances at me lovingly. "So. . .Why'd you call me that?"

Chuckling, I wave my fork at her. "You know, I really do like this new banter of ours. . .It's fun." I take a bite out of the pasta then sigh. Wow, that was sooooo long ago. And you know what? I've never, ever, ever stopped fantasizing about her. "I am not sure if it was the bump on my head, or my fear of you getting married to Mic. . ." We both wince at the mention of the Aussie's name and I immediately continue. "Uh, when you walked in, I didn't see _you_. I saw a fantasy of you." I grin at the thought. Sure, I'd fantasized about her before then. But, this was different, I was at work, the place where I was usually in 'control.' But, I lost it that day and every day after, the fantasies were just stronger, realer. Sometimes I'd literally feel her in my arms. "You were wearing this sexy as hell white evening gown."

"At JAG?" She says with laughter in her voice. I'd have laughed too, but the thoughts of Mac was doing other things to me.

"You walk in and tell me that it's going to rain and that it's. . ." Oh, boy was that my favorite part. Her voice, God! – Thud – If I hadn't already clocked my head, I probably would have clocked it the moment she said. "perfect weather for making love."

Mac is giving me this sexy grin. "Well, fantasy me was right about that."

I am temped to just forget about dinner and reenact a few fantasies, but I'll make her wait. With a grin, I reach over and take her hand. "So, what sort of terms of endearment do you have for me?"

She eyes me up and down, then bites her lower lip seductively. I feel my control start to slip again. "Well, there are so many good ones. . . sugarbritches, hotstuff, pumpkin." I cringe at each of those, then Mac waggles her eyebrows. "But, after knowing you so _intimately_. . .The perfect term for you is Big Sexy."

"Big sexy?" I choke out.

Mac just nods. "Yup, that describes you head to toe." And I, for one am not going to disagree with her.

TO BE CONTINUED…


	10. Bath Time

Sorry it took a while to post another one of these. I was writing in the wrong POV for the chapter and had to add up another one. The first "scene" here cracked me up when I first wrote it. I could literally see Mac covering up and Harm smirking his head off. Hehehe.

Enjoy!

Jackie

PS: I am not going to do the whole Mac can't have a baby or whatever issue. In this story, she is fine, I might pick that up somewhere.

Thanks to: e-dog, Macaroon, BeachChick, Dessler, dansingwolf, Maria, blueangel, Vrbinka, BiteBeccy, SarahRabb, my.evian, anna, Jaggie107, snugglebug, Manda, Lisa, cbw, Xblue, froggy, aserene, crazybum, VrbinkaCZE, sally, trooper, starryeyes, Martini, NavyBabe, jaggurl, Nix, joanoa, jagdreamer, Kinga, JAGChic, Jagfan 724, littlemaccyd, ninjaturtle, blueangel, Kinga, JK, zoomie, myevian, CathyF, CBW, jagdreamer, joanoa, alix33, arian, Lurkz, LiseGirardi, Beach chickJASSNL, Tracy, and mizukimar for the feedback:)

Part 10 – Bath Time

"I'm home." I call out as I step in through my apartment door. Taking a whiff I sniff out what has to be spaghetti and meatballs. "Harm?" I am mildly surprised not to find Harm coming out of either the bedroom or the kitchen which means he could only be in one place. The bathroom. With a grin, I place my things on the kitchen table then start disrobing, leaving a trail of Marine green across the apartment. Today was murderous, I was still stuck dealing with the psycho client from hell. Thankfully, I have a wonderful boyfriend who will massage all of the kinks out of my body if I ask nicely. And if he won't, the threat of bodily harm will work, I am sure. I stop outside the bathroom door, clad only in my skivvies when I hear splashing. Oooh, so he's filled up the tub. How unlike Harm. . .How unlike Harm and how very sexy. I plaster on my best sexy, mischievous grin and open up the door, dropping my voice a few notches to that Bond Girl, sexy tone. "Well, hello there sexy."

But, Harm's not the one in the tub. Oh no, in the tub are our godsons Jimmy and AJ Roberts. Harm is sitting on the edge of the tub with some funky, colorful, fishy bathing sponge. He's not wearing a shirt and his shorts are all soaked. I snatch my robe and quickly cover up my immodesty as Harm busts out laughing. "Auntie Mac! Auntie Mac!" The boys are yelping and I feel my cheeks flush a few shades over.

Harm eyes me up and down and has the guts to run a soapy hand up my clave. "Uh, Auntie Mac, I don't think that the boys here are ready to learn about S-E-X." He spells out, then starts laughing again. I could kill him, really I could.

I stick my tongue out at him, the boys fueling my five year old nature, then turn around. "Cute. . .I'll be right back."

"We'll be here." Harm says, still laughing. I'm sorry, it could not be _that_ funny. I am sure, at some point, I'll laugh about it.. . .Actually, no I won't. I rummage through my drawers, choosing to wear my Marine workout shorts and an old t-shirt. I've bathed AJ before and no matter what you do, he is more into getting water on you than on himself.

Heading back into the bathroom, I find Jimmy drawing on the walls with those soap/crayon sticks. His side is just a big, blue, swirly mess while AJ's side boasts, what appears to be, some dog with his head about ten times bigger than the body. When Harm turns to me, I find his chest is also painted with a bright orange sun. "Oooh, nice there, Harm. . .Would be quite the tattoo on you."

Making a point, not sure what point, but making a point nonetheless, Harm takes the orange crayon soap from the side of the tub and runs it down one of my legs. "Now we match." He says triumphantly as I squat down next to him. "Hi, by the way." Grinning he leans forward and gives me a quick kiss that just wasn't quick enough.

"OooOoooOOoooh." Glancing up, I find little AJ staring at us with this big, wide grin. "Auntie Mac and Uncle Harm kissing." He takes the orange soap from Harm and starts to draw something that looks like big bird next to the dog. "Uncle Harm I didn't know you married Auntie Mac. . .mommy and daddy says your friends. . .but I tell them you love Auntie Mac and Auntie Mac loves you. . .You kissed so you're married."

"AJ, Uncle Harm and I are not married." I hate to disappoint him, but God knows what he'll tell Harriet and Bud now. Harm and I still haven't decided when we should let the others know about our change in status. This really isn't the way to start. "Harm and I are friends and friends kiss."

"But you love Uncle Harm, right?" AJ asks as he draws the beak to his big bird looking thing.

Harm decides to field this one. "Yes, I love Auntie Mac and she loves me. . .Friends are supposed to love each other."

AJ stops his coloring of my bathroom wall and turns over to the two of us. "You should marry Auntie Mac." He tells Harm. "Then Auntie Mac won't get sad when you go in the plane."

Harm turns to me and gives me an odd expression. "How do you know Auntie Mac gets sad, AJ?"

"She told mommy." Ah, from the mouth of babes.

Well, he was right about that, I just didn't know that he heard. It was before Harm and I got together. About a month before, really. He was heading off to do quals and me, like usual, became this depressed idiot. Harriet caught on and we spent the better part of an hour discussing things. Somehow I let it slip that it upset me when Harm went flying, that I never got over him crashing on the eve of my almost wedding. "Uncle Harm is a little crazy sometimes, that's why I worry."

Grabbing the sponge, Harm wrings it out over my head, completely wetting me. "I am not crazy."

This just sets AJ and Jimmy into this whole laughing fit. It's amazing to know that, at some point, we were all this small and innocent and carefree. AJ finishes his drawings then turns around to us. He smiles again, that big wide, smile then wraps his arms around Harm's neck. "I love you Uncle Harm." He glances up at me and adds. "And even though you're a girl and girls are icky, I love you too Aunt Mac." Letting go at Harm he flings himself at me, totally wetting both my shirt and shorts, but it's okay, really it is. I love this little guy so much and I know Harm feels the same.

After getting the boys dressed and mopping up the one million gallons of water all over my bathroom floor, I head out to the dinning room table to find Harm attempting to feed Jimmy. "C'mon James. . . Here comes the airplane. . .vrooooooooooooooooomm." But, Jimmy has other plans. He's chosen to take the spaghetti from the plate and fling it at Harm. I try not to laugh, but it's no use. With a loud burst, I laugh hard followed by AJ and Jimmy who, I think are only laughing because I am. Harm turns and gives me this pointed glare. "Well you think you can do better?"

Oh boy, a challenge! I head purposefully to the table and take the spoon from Harm. And even before I go to sit down, Jimmy has his mouth open, waiting for a bite. He chews the spaghetti before opening his mouth again. Turning to Harm, I find him staring at us with a look of both confusion and amazement.

"How are you doing that?" He asks as he removes some spaghetti off of his arm. I shrug. It's highly doubtful that it's some sort of maternal thing. But, Harm suggests otherwise. "You're going to make a great mom, Sarah." I sigh happily, now that we've figured this thing out, we have this much more of a chance to work on our deal before we turn eighty. Harm and I stare a each other, both of us with a silly expression.

"I say we add a year to that deal. . .just so we can iron out the kinks in this relationship thing." I offer, ever the lawyer with the well thought out plans.

"I'll take that, if you can throw in a toaster."

I chuckle, "Deal." Course, the moment I think I have this whole feeding Jimmy thing down, I feel a slap of spaghetti on the side of my face. One which is sliding down my cheek and onto the table. Little AJ's laughing his little head off and so is Harm. Turning to Jimmy, I find more sauce on him than on the actual pasta. Oh look, he's now decided to toss some at his brother. With a sigh, I place the spoon down on the plate and glance up at my boyfriend. "You know what this means?"

Harm nods. "Yep, after dinner, it's bath time again."


	11. Well Worth A Two Hour Drive

Here, something to lighten your mood guys. . . I know I know "Why didn't he propose!" I am working on that! Thank you! ;)

Jackie

Thanks to: e-dog, Macaroon, BeachChick, Dessler, dansingwolf, Maria, blueangel, Vrbinka, BiteBeccy, SarahRabb, my.evian, anna, Jaggie107, snugglebug, Manda, Lisa, cbw, Xblue, froggy, aserene, crazybum, VrbinkaCZE, sally, trooper, starryeyes, Martini, NavyBabe, jaggurl, Nix, joanoa, jagdreamer, Kinga, JAGChic, Jagfan 724, littlemaccyd, ninjaturtle, blueangel, Kinga, JK, zoomie, myevian, CathyF, CBW, jagdreamer, joanoa, alix33, arian, Lurkz, LiseGirardi, Beach chickJASSNL, Tracy, Lisa, and mizukimar for the feedback:)

Part 11 - Well Worth A Two Hour Drive

The first thing I do after the maitre 'd escorts us to the table, is take a hard, languorous look at our surroundings. No ex-girlfriends, no female friends of mine, no ex's of Mac's and no co-workers. With a sigh, I glance across the small round table at Mac and grin. She seems to be pleased with my selection however, boy, did I hear it on the way over.

The restaurant is literally two hours away from DC. I figure, this way, it would be much more difficult to bump into anyone. Now, try taking a very hungry female Marine for a two hour drive when she's already made it a point to tell you that she's starved. The last thirty minutes of the drive had me checking several times to make sure she didn't have some sort of weapon on her. I had a fleeting image of her beating me over the head with the tire iron if I didn't feed her ASAP.

But now, she's just giving me this sexy and sweet smile. Actually, after we made love for the first time, anything and everything about Mac is sexy. Even when she yelled at me the other day for sandbagging her in court again. I think the only time she isn't sexy is when we are in court, but that's only because I try to keep my head on the case and not her. Which, I am proud to say, I am managing to do. "Let me guess, you were trying to have me all to yourself?"

I chuckle slightly, boy is she right on the money. "And trying to avoid ex's of all kinds and coworkers."

Suddenly she gets this look, it's a cross between playfulness and real remorse. "I'm sorry for wanting to belt you over the head with the tire iron." See, I knew it! Thank God that thing is in the trunk and we didn't have to pull over, else, I'd be a dead man. "But you could have told me you were going to haul me half way across the country for dinner. . .I've brought a snack along or something." She's running her fingers around the rim of an empty water goblet and has this kid like appearance about her that is making me melt.

"Are surprises so bad?"

"Nooo, I rather like surprises."

I smile. "Well, that is good to hear, because this night might just be full of surprises." I motion over to the small, wooden dance floor and the three couples taking a slow lap around it. "May I have this dance?"

"Yes." That smile of hers, the personal one saved for me, goes up in wattage. She extends her hand across the table and I take it as I usher her across the room. We catch the eye of several people and with all of the confidence possible I can say that we make quite the stunning couple. I have on a black suit with a burgundy tie which Mac's dress matches. It's one of those with a plunging neckline that still looks tasteful and classy. We dance slowly, allowing no space between our bodies and I find myself catching my breath. Damnit, she's right, I've become a romantic. Not sure how the hell that happened or if I can be cured. But, moments like these, when she is in my arms, I really do not care. "Hmm, so you said you had more surprises?"

"Oh yes. . .It is your birthday after all." I grin. Mac hates birthdays, specifically _her_ birthday. I know that stems from her childhood and her mother leaving her on her fifteenth birthday. Ever since I've learned of that, I've tried each year to do something special. Tonight is no different.

"Harm, you didn't have to do all of this. . . But thank you." Turning her head to the side, she kisses my cheek, then reaches her hand up to wipe off the lipstick. "I should leave that there. . .make sure no other girls try to steal you away."

I've come to find out that while Mac isn't the overtly jealous type (or so she says), she can become dangerously territorial. I found this out when we were at the market a couple of blocks away from her place. Here I am in the bakery trying to order some donuts when a pretty, tall blonde, who couldn't be older than 26, blatantly tried to pick me up. And by blatant, I mean she was rubbing her. .um. ..chest against my arm as she passed by. Mind you, she had all the space in the world. Mac caught her and instantly I saw that little green monster flicker in her eyes. She strutted, and I literally mean strutted, her way over to me, walked into my personal space, wrapped her arms around me and kissed me so deeply that I nearly lost consciousness for a moment.. When we parted 'Blondie,' as Mac called her, huffed, tossed her blond hair and headed out of the bakery aisle. I found myself grinning like an idiot at my girlfriend.

Chuckling, I shake my head. Mac's some woman. "What is it?" She asks, her eyes alight with amusement.

"Oh, just thinking about the bakery and Blondie." I say, and she joins me with a chuckle of her own.

"I wasn't too bad was I?" Too bad? Oh, not at all, it was downright sexy kissing her with the sweet smell of bakery goodies. "I mean you seemed to be all out of words when we stepped apart." She teases, then rests her head on my shoulder as I pull her impossibly closer.

I kiss the top of her head and smile. "You were perfect, Sarah, perfect."

Her head raises and our eyes lock. Mac's voice is soft, feminine, a way it only gets when were sharing private moments like this. "I like it when you call me that. . .For some reason, it sounds right coming from you."

"Not anyone else?" She shakes her head and smiles shyly. "It's a beautiful name." And it is and it fits her beauty. Though, to me, she'll always be Mac. I realize the music has ended and we've just been standing together, moving without a tune. Slightly embarrassed, I ease Mac away from me, then take her hand to lead her back to the table.

We finally have dinner and for my evil, torture of a two hour drive, I ordered this decadent, delicious, divine chocolate creation of a mouse that will probably give us a heart attack the minute we put the spoons down. The dessert was great, even better than the dinner which was, 'to die for' as Mac put it. But, the best part for me, was watching her lick the mouse off of the spoon, which she does in this slow, teasing way that make my pants feel just a little tighter. I clear my throat and look away momentarily. Reaching into the pocket of my jacket, I feel around for the long, rectangular, velvet box I put in there.

Oh s! It's missing. Glancing at Mac I pale slightly. Great, oh, this is just great! I've lost her birthday present. What kind of a moron looses his girlfriends rather expensive birthday present! I take a deep breath and manage to smile. Calm down Harm! Calm down! Jesus, I already feel the sweat on my brow. "Uh, Mac. . .I need to us the head, I'll be right back."

I see concern in her eyes, ugh, not good. "Are you okay?"

I nod. "Yea, but you know, that two hour drive and all. . .it's not good to hold it." By now I am bolting away from the table, heading towards the exit which is, mercifully where the entrance to the bathrooms are. I glance back towards the table, making sure she isn't watching me. Course, I miss completely the waiter who comes around the corner carrying a tray full of drinks. It goes flying all over the place as I apologize profusely and then, literally, run out side. "Okay, it has to be in the car, it probably just fell out of my pocket. . .that's right. . .that's what happened, it's in the car." I walk over to the Vette, open the door and search around. . .nothing. Damnit, I want to cry! "God, if there is ever a time I needed a favor, this is it. . ." By then it occurs to me to check my other pocket and immediately my hand touches the felt box which, I swear, was not there when I checked minutes earlier. I look up to the skies and sigh. "I promise, this Sunday, we're going to church, no sleeping in late, no running, no. . uh, extracurricular activities. . .church it is." I cross myself and run back into the restaurant, this time, I manage not to run over anyone.

Taking the box out of my pocket, I approach Mac from behind, then stop. Wait, she's a Marine, one that would, no doubt, probably fling me over her head and toss me on the table. So, instead, I walk around her and sit back across from her. "Harm, are you okay? You look flushed."

Oh yea, just dandy. With a smile and a nod, I place the long rectangular box on the table and slide it over to her. "Happy Birthday."

She gets this totally adorable look on her face as her fingers rub the material of the box. "Harm, what is this?"

"It's a box, but, think you'll like what's inside the box." I say, then take a the goblet of water and chug down all of it. Whew! Man was I worried.

The adorable look on her face turns to one of total confusion as she opens the box. Oh God. Don't tell me she didn't like it. . .I mean, maybe I am not a romantic guy or whatever, but I thought it was pretty damned cute. "Uh, Harm." She glances up at me and shakes her head. "Ha ha, jokes on me?"

"Huh?" She turns the box over to me and. . .guess what? It's empty. "Oh for the love of God." I yell catching the attention of several other patrons. With a grimace I take the box and stare at it. "I swear there was something in here. . ." Ugh, shoot me now. . .please. I search my pockets and this time, they are totally empty. I take it back, I won't go to church on Sunday. Taking the box, I hear something jingle inside. Aha! It fell under that little flappy thingy on the top. With a grin, I yank out the top part, turn the box around and, then, present it to Mac. "Okay, now you can have your present." I guess I'll have to go to church after all.

Mac gingerly takes out the chain and dangles it on her fingers so that she can stare at the charm. It's a simple, flat, golden heart with the inscription: 'S heart H.' In the back is another inscription and I would have had more put in, if there were more space. 'To the owner of my heart, Love, Harm.' Her eyes start to fill with tears that I know are from joy, but still, it upsets me to see her cry. "I. . .I don't know what to say."

"Say that you like it." I reach over and wipe a tear which has caused her mascara to run.

"I love it, Harm." She leans her face into my hand then takes it and places the chain into it. "Put it on me, please." With pleasure, I walk around the table and place the chain around her neck. I clasp it in the back and admire how it looks in contrast to the dress she's wearing. Mac pulls me down and we kiss briefly, before I take my seat.

She smiles at me. "So I was right about you."

My eyes lock on her fingers which are playing with the charm. "Right about what?

"That you're a romantic." Mac's smile goes up in wattage and well, I guess she is right and you know what? If she continues to smile that way, I guess I'll just have to figure out what other romantic things to do for her.


	12. I Do NOT Snore!

Nope! Haven't forgtten about these! People keep asking, no I won't stop writing as long as I have an audience and stories to tell. Which, I have a few of both.

Have a good week!

Jackie

Part 12 – I Do NOT Snore!

With a sigh, I place the file I am reading on top of the coffee table. It's Saturday, he doesn't have a damned thing to do, but I have a few cases to review. Vukovic's cases that is. Apparently one of the judge's we were up against had crossed paths with Lt. Creep and learned of his not-so-ethical ways of lawyering. As a result, I am here, stuck going through all of his ten cases since he's been at JAG. Harm offered to kill Vic for me. Honestly, it was tempting, but I don't need my boyfriend in Leavenworth over some creep. And here's another problem, I can't seem to work with the guy without feeling some animosity towards him and Lord knows I've tried. Last week the General drops the bomb that Vic reminds him of Harm. Hah! Yea, right! Harm might be a loose canon, but at least he is a loose canon with ethics. Vic. . .well, I am not sure how he got out of OCS.

Sighing again, I look over at Harm who's laying across my sofa, well, as much as a six foot four inch guy can lie across a sofa. His head is propped up awkwardly and his feet are propped up on the arm rest. Just looking at him makes my back hurt. I've repeatedly told him that when he wants to take a nap, he is more than welcome to use my bed. But, for some reason or another, he wants to rest on the sofa. Personally, I think it's because if he sleeps on the sofa he can bitch about his back hurting which means I'll have to massage and kiss it better. Not that I mind, touching Harm's body has become an addiction. I've even found my hands having a mind of their own at the office. How could anyone blame me? He's just too well put together. With a grin, I heave myself up out of the chair and make my way to the kitchen.

He's been asleep for a few hours and no doubt will be waking up soon. So, I grab a bottle of water for me and him and take it back to the coffee table. I sit down on the table and just watch him. Harm is so darn cute when he sleeps. It's amusing how such a big, bad pilot can look like such a little boy in his sleep. I stop myself from touching him and pushing his hair off of his forehead. It's then that I realize one little, itty bitty thing – Harm does not snore. Furling my brown I lean forward, trying to hear if maybe he's just a very, very, very, very liiiiiiiight snorer. Hmmm. . .nope, Harm just does not snore. For a moment there, I back away and check to make sure the guy is still breathing. Whew! Yep, he is.

Now, this is really amusing, at least to me. Not to start comparing my ex's to Harm, but. . .well. . .it's difficult not to. You spend your life with losers and then, out of the blue, this hunk of a brilliant man decides he loves you, trust me, you'd be comparing too! So anyway, he doesn't know I've been comparing him to others. And, have I mentioned there is NO comparison? Well, the snoring thing is another item to add to my list. My father wasn't too bad, well, not too bad considering the only time he would snore was when he was passed out drunk. I remember that was the only way I knew things at home had calmed down.

Chris wasn't too bad either, but, unfortunately, he had similar tendencies like those of my father – snoring when passed out. Dalton would only snore when he would lay face up, which had me turning him over to his side in order for me got get some sleep. Mic wouldn't just snore, the man would TALK in his sleep. And it was usually something about me and Harm. Mostly, it was about me. Now, Clay. . .Jesus! The man snores so loud it sounds as if he's swallowed some sort of wild animal. I am surprised he can do any covert missions with the CIA. Then again, he did tell me once that he hardly sleeps. No doubt his partners in missions probably keep him up in order for them not to be discovered.

Back to Harm. . .The man DOES NOT snore. Wow, another thing I've taken for granted. I am not an overly light sleeper, but as a Marine I have this need to wake up at a moments notice drilled into my head. It sucks when you really need to fall asleep and stay asleep for more than a few hours. "Mac? Something wrong?" I hear Harm's sleepy voice ask as he works on sitting up. Ah, there is a groan, followed by a moan and two choice words over my sofa.

I can't help but chuckle as I settle myself next to him. My hands work their way along his back and up to his shoulders and neck. "Nothing is wrong, I was just. . .watching you sleep." I smile at my admission, it sounds stupid, cliché and so soap operaish, but I was watching him sleep, why lie?

"Ooooh, yea, right there, babe." He groans out, then sighs. I let my hands work on a kink, secretly enjoying my actions. "Am I that interesting?" He peaks slightly over his shoulder and I smack him gently. "Owww, hey! What was that for?"

"Oh, I know you were about to make one of your ego boosting comments." I know my man too well.

Harm chuckles, then turns to completely face me. "Babe, just having you near me boosts my ego." He says with a soft voice then grins. Okay, now, I've never been into the whole 'terms of endearment,' but the way he says 'babe' is just. . .sexy. He places a hand on the side of my face and caresses my cheek softly as he leans in to kiss me. It's times like this, simple and sweet times that make me fall for him just a little more.

When we break apart, I nod towards the files I still have to finish. "I still need to finish up with those, but after I am done, how about we go to the Italian place down the block?"

He reaches over for the bottled water and takes a long gulp. "Or we can order in and I can help you with the rest of those over dinner?" He offers, but I am not biting.

"As much as I love spending alone time with you, Harm, if I don't get out of this apartment for a few hours I am going to lose it." Seriously, I've been working on these files all day. I need a break, some fresh air, and then we can take all of the alone time we need.

Harm chuckles. "I understand, and yea, that sounds cool." Standing, he stretches, then comes over and kisses me again, something that I've noticed he does a lot. And I do like it. "I'm going to hit the shower."

He kisses me again and as he is half way to the bedroom, I decide to let him in on a point. "Did you know that you don't snore?"

Apparently that question catches him off guard, then again, Harm isn't really a 'morning' person. And it really doesn't matter if it's morning or not, the man just doesn't function for at least twenty minutes to an hour after waking. "I don't snore?"

"Nope. . .which, is weird. . . I mean, every guy I've known snores." Wow, I sound like such a dork. I'm talking to him about snoring as if I've just discovered the meaning of life. He raises a brow and I just decide to shake it off. "It's nothing, I just. . .wanted to point that down." I grin up at him, fully expecting him to rib me.

Harm doesn't disappoint. "You do. . snore I mean."

"Uh huh, funny." I turn open one of the folders and start to read Vic's information on the case when I hear Harm chuckling. "What's so funny?"

He stands next to me. "You DO snore, Mac."

I glare at him and chuck my pen at the coffee table. "I do NOT snore!"

"You do too!"

"Do not!"

"Do too!"

"Not!"

"Too!" He sighs and starts to laugh, I assume, at how five-year-oldish we sound. Harm gets that wide, flyboy, cocky grin and makes, I am sorry to say, a good point. "How would you know if you do or don't snore, Mac? You can't hear yourself."

My mouth hangs open, trying to grasp words, but they fail me. Okay, so the man has a damned point! "I. . .okay, fine I wouldn't know, but. . ." I glare hard at him. Damnit. With a sigh I work up the courage to ask, "How bad is it?"

Harm chuckles again and I am seriously considering chucking the pen at him. "Depends." He says, leaving it right there. Ah, he wants me to fish, fine!

"On?"

"Well. . ." He starts, then trails off as he bites his lower lip. "If you sleep on your back, I think the neighbors down the block could hear you."

I pale, then turn red. I snore? So loudly? Oh God, poor Harm. I think of my ex's as well – honestly – screw them, but Harm. . .jeez! "Umm. . .do you think I should go see a doctor about it?" Either that or I am buying those prongs you stick in your nose. Really! How embarrassing!

"Oh God." Harm starts laughing hard, doubling over even. Ha ha, lemme guess. "I was kidding Mac! Sheesh, I had you going though."

"Oh yea, yer funny. . . just a barrel of laughs!" This time I reach over, grab the pen and do chuck it at him. Course, I had the cap on so I would not cause any permanent injury. "So I don't snore, then?"

"Sometimes."

"Sometimes? What the hell is 'sometimes?'" I yell at him.

Harm gets that 'I'm thinking' look again and then smiles at me. "The times you've told me you're cold and your nose gets kind of stuffy, you snore. . .And when you get a cold too. . .I think it's just your sinuses." Okay, now he's a doctor too?

"So it isn't an 'every night' thing?"

"Nope and it's really, really low." He says in a low voice, leaning into me to place a kiss on my neck. "Besides, even if you DID snore really loud, I wouldn't trade you in for anything in the world." He walks towards my bedroom as I hurl a piece of paper at him. "You missed!"

"Yea, well, you better not joke with me like that again." I glance over to find Harm's head poking out of my room.

"Oh yea? And why is that?"

Turning, I give him my full, Marine death glare and he totally wipes off the smirk. "I don't think you want to spend several nights on my sofa." I threaten. "Especially after I took a trip to Vickie's Secrets and got a little something you might like."

Harm's mouth hangs open and he all but comes to attention. "Umm. . .Did I tell you how sorry I am? Joking with you that way was inappropriate." I manage not to chuckle as he goes through the list of things he loves about me.  
To Be Continued. . .


	13. Please Insert Foot In Mouth

Ah, we have hit lucky number 13. ;) They needed a bump, this is an amusing one. I know some people are going to be. like "DOH!" LOL!

Enjoy!

Jackie

Thanks to: e-dog, Macaroon, BeachChick, Dessler, dansingwolf, Maria, blueangel, Vrbinka, BiteBeccy, SarahRabb, my.evian, anna, Jaggie107, snugglebug, Manda, Lisa, cbw, Xblue, froggy, aserene, crazybum, VrbinkaCZE, sally, trooper, starryeyes, Martini, NavyBabe, jaggurl, Nix, joanoa, jagdreamer, Kinga, JAGChic, Jagfan 724, littlemaccyd, ninjaturtle, blueangel, Kinga, JK, zoomie, myevian, CathyF, CBW, jagdreamer, joanoa, alix33, arian, Lurkz, LiseGirardi, Beach chickJASSNL, Tracy, Lisa, roz, Peggy, Elizabeth Ayers, Disaster Child, trooper and mizukimar for the feedback:)

Part 13 – Please Insert Foot In Mouth

"Do my hips look too big in this?" I know Mac has just asked me something but I am a bit too busy watching the Nationals game to figure out what it was. Can you believe it? We _finally_ get a team and we're kicking butt all over the place. "Uh, hello? Harm?" Maybe I should just get a TV set once and for all instead of bugging Mac? "Harm?" Not that she minds, I am sure she doesn't mind. "Harmon?"

I glance over at her and my focus completely changes to her and only her. Wow, she's wearing this dark blue number, no doubt what she is planning to wear to the Navy/Marine Corps gala thingy we have to go to on Friday. "Oooh Yea!" I say, assuming she is asking if I approve. Why wouldn't I? I mean she's. . .umm, okay? Mac suddenly gets this hurt look on her face, stomps her feet, then walks away.

What the hell did I do now? I am about to get up and go after her when I hear a hard _crack_ and my attention focuses again on the game. "Yea! HOME RUN!" Jeez, I haven't been _this_ into baseball since I was growing up in California. Back then though, I was a huge Padres fan. "What! NO WAY! THE UMPIRE IS BLIND!" I yell at the TV, standing up as I watch the replay of what should have been a homerun, but the damned officials called it a ground rule double. I'm about to sit down and watch the replay and that's when something whizzes by my head. "What the. . .Oooof!" The second one is a direct hit.

I am left slightly dazed as I glance down to see the offending object, it's Petey the Pterodactyl. I bend down and pick it up then straighten to find Mac with a look that could kill. "Umm, am I being too loud?" I ask and that glare of hers has taken a turn towards the – if it were a laser, I'd be dust – variety.

"Argh! Men!" Okay, maybe _this_ would be a good time to let the baseball game be and go after my girlfriend who's now stomped off into her room again. Wonder what the hell I did now? I walk into the room to find a stack of gowns and dresses on Mac's bed. Letting out a low whistle, I gauge the stack wondering when she had the time to buy all of those and why I haven't seen more than half. "Erm, I think you and I are going to have to start going out A LOT more." _That_ comment suddenly has a deep red number being tossed directly at my head. It drapes over me and I stand there feeling like a moron. "Have I said something wrong?"

"Have you said something wrong?" Mac asks.

I place the red dress down on the bed and keep my distance from the Marine Lt. Colonel. "Yea, because we were fine five minutes ago."

"Fine five minutes ago!" Oh shit. You know you are in trouble when your significant other starts to REPEAT things you've said or asked.

"I'm not so sure what's going on. . ." Defensively I put my hands up signaling surrender. "Could we talk about this?"

"Talk about this!" She repeats again. Yep, I am a dead man. I might as well just dig my own grave down at Arlington. "You insult me then you want to talk about it?"

Okay, now it's _my_ turn to repeat things. "Insult you?" When the hell did I do that?

"Well, what would you call it?" She is standing there with her hands on her hips tapping her foot on the floor. You know, now that I see her that way, I can't help but think how cute she looks. She'd doing that eyebrow thing I love so much. I can't help myself, I know I am grinning and I know I am in for it, but I just don't care. "Were you screwing with me again? Was it all just another joke?"

Screwing with her? Well, no, I _know_ I wasn't doing _that _which is much more pleasurable than _this. _Suddenly she's glaring at me again. "I said that out loud didn't I?"

"You know what? Get out." She points at her bedroom door and stomps towards me. "It's obvious our relationship is all laughs and giggles and I am not interested in being with a man who can't see when he needs to be serious."

I place my hands on her shoulders knowing full well she'll probably clobber me. But I am too stubborn to run. Besides, I have yet to figure out what I did wrong. "Woah, woah, power down there, Marine. . ."

"I am not _POWERING DOWN_, Harmon Rabb Junior!" Oooh, jeez, this is _much_ serious than I thought if she's using my full name. "You can be such a jerk sometimes. . .Doesn't it ever occur to you that, even when you are joking, you could _hurt_ someone's feelings!"

Now, this I really do not understand. What have I said to hurt her feelings? Was it the slight sexual innuendos or did I, somewhere, in the yelling at the ball game, say something obscene? Oh, damn, now she's doing that sniffling/shoulder shrugging thing. I frown feeling every but the jerk she says I am. "Whatever it is, I am sorry."

I place a hand on her cheek, and Mac looks up at me with big, watery eyes. "If you didn't like the dress, you could have just said so."

Ummm, have I entered the twilight zone or something? "Uh, Mac, you look gorgeous in that."

You know those watery eyes? Guess what? They are gone! Just like that! "You said my hips were too big!" She yells at me and, for the first time since this. . ._thing_ started, I wonder if she's PMSing. Hmmm.

I step back a bit and slowly study her up and down. "Mac, you look completely gorgeous. And why would I say anything about your hips?" Why would any man, if he knows what's good for him, interject some disapproving comment about his girl? "And when the hell did I say that your hips were too big?"

"Two minutes ago?" Ah, so that's what she was asking me. Hmmm, I guess that whole agreeing with her issue doesn't work for everything.

I shake my head slightly. "I wasn't paying attention, I thought you asked if I liked the dress. .. which, I do."

"Oh." Yea, oh. With a sigh, she looks down like a little kid who has done something wrong. "I'm sorry for snapping. . .but, I _like _to know what you think about things and I do want you to approve." Wow, I stand there stunned that she made such an admission. Mac isn't the type to admit that much about herself, it's touching, really it is to know we've both opened up so much to each other.

I smile at her. "Well, I think you look gorgeous in this and probably all the other ones." I say, pointing towards the bed.

Mac shrugs, obviously still a bit off kilter, then again, so am I. "You can go back to the game, Harm, you don't have to stand around watching me try on dresses." She gets this cute smirk and shakes her head. "I really am sorry for snapping. . .it's just one of those days." Ah, yes, she's referring, of course, to having to work with Vic on a case today, a case that they both got pulled off of because of Vic's antics. I swear, if he does anything stupid again, I am going to show him what it's like to mess with Naval Aviators and their girlfriends.

Woah. . .back up, did she just say she was going to try on dresses? "You know? I'd rather stay here." I say, ogling her legs indecently. When Mac turns around to face me, I pull my gaze up to her face and grin. "You might need help."

Placing her hands on her hips she informs me that, "Tonight, I am really not in the mood for the kind of 'help' you're offering." She chuckles, then tries to get herself out of the get up. "Argh! Stupid, stupid, zipper!"

Hmmm, Super Harm to the rescue! In one quick move I am standing behind her, my fingers sliding the zipper down. "See, you needed help." I point out with a smug grin. "Truth is, you girls can't get on without a hunky, strong man in your life. . . I mean, you are the weaker sex." Ah, okay, I didn't just say that! This is the wrong time to say that. "I uh. . ."

And there is that laser death, Marine glare. "I uh, what?" I shake my head but she is determined to hear the rest. "No no no, what were you going to say?"

"I think it would be best if I just insert my foot in my mouth." She nods agreeing with me. "Am I going to have to sleep on the couch tonight?"

"Oooh yea." And with that, she disappears into the bathroom. Sighs, groveling, here I come.

I follow her into the bathroom like a lost little puppy dog, with my lost little puppy dog frown in hopes that it will get her back on my side. "Mac, look, I am sorry, I just. . .well, sometimes, I am a moron with words."

"That's an understatement." She snorts and I am not sure if I should find that offensive or not. Without warning, she spins around and comes face to face with me. "Harm, you don't have to sleep on the sofa tonight. I might be angry, but, I know how much it hurts your back."

Ah, so she has given in and in less than a minute? "So I am off the hook?"

"Heh, uh, no." She says smoothly and pushes past me and out to her bedroom. "But, you're on dish duty for a week." I glance at her with a raised brow. That's it? That's my punishment? I figured she'd be a bit harder on me like no sex or something. But the look she is now giving me says there is more to this punishment. "Oh and when we head off to Norfolk tomorrow for the case, you know you had that idea to share a room, save some money?"

I nod and grimace. "We won't be sharing will we?"

Mac smiles and I swear, she is loving this. "Nope, since you're prosecuting and I am defending, it would be in the best interest of my client if we don't consort." There is a point there, however, we've consorted plenty and been on opposite sides.

I nod and sigh, well, at least I don't have to grovel. "Any idea when I'll be off the hook?"

"Nope, but, you'll be the first to know." With a chuckle, she heads across the room again and closes the door to the bathroom. At least she didn't kick me out of her place – there is always a positive side to everything. And I am going to work on this, starting by the dozens of roses she'll find in her office tomorrow morning.

TO BE CONTINUED. . .


	14. Roses and Spectacles

This part amused the hell out of me, but, then again, I am easily amused. ;)

Hope you guys dig it. :)

Jackie

Thanks to: e-dog, Macaroon, BeachChick, Dessler, dansingwolf, Maria, blueangel, Vrbinka, BiteBeccy, SarahRabb, my.evian, anna, Jaggie107, snugglebug, Manda, Lisa, cbw, Xblue, froggy, aserene, crazybum, VrbinkaCZE, sally, trooper, starryeyes, Martini, NavyBabe, jaggurl, Nix, joanoa, jagdreamer, Kinga, JAGChic, Jagfan 724, littlemaccyd, ninjaturtle, blueangel, Kinga, JK, zoomie, myevian, CathyF, CBW, jagdreamer, joanoa, alix33, arian, Lurkz, LiseGirardi, Beach chickJASSNL, Tracy, Lisa, roz, Peggy, Elizabeth Ayers, Disaster Child, trooper, LtCmdrFlygirl, Roz, Peggy, and mizukimar for the feedback:)

Part 14 – Roses and Spectacles

This morning, before we headed on over, I walk into my office to find, literally a jungle of roses. Red roses, yellow roses, pink roses, white roses, and even some rather odd mixture of roses adorned every inch of my office. I walked in timidly, expecting my handsome flyboy to jump out from behind the baby's-breath, but, instead, he stumbled in behind me with a look on his face that could kill. "I hope you like the flowers Miss MacKenzie." He said, his voice clearly sounded like he was seething and I couldn't gauge why. I mean, if he was pissed about spending money on the roses, he knew he didn't have to do that. One bouquet would have been just fine.

"They are beautiful, I wonder who sent them." I said, loud enough for anyone to hear, since no one knows about us and, apparently, we both want to keep it that way.

But, Harm wasn't playing, he literally was seething. Shutting the door behind us, he stands directly in front of me, as if he were about to give me an order. I raise my eyebrow in confusion. "This got me in some _huge_ trouble."

"This?" Okay, how the hell would this get him in trouble? I am assuming, of course, since I have a wonderfully smart and talented boyfriend that he took the liberty of making sure no one knew where they came from. "Whyyy?"

Harm crosses his arms in front of him and glares me down. "The General was here earlier than usual and questioning the guys who I bought the roses from. They told him that it was paid for by me."

"Oh shit." What the hell is going wrong with this country! Don't people know about client privacy!

Nodding, he agrees with me. "Oh shit is right, Mac." But, he's still glaring at me as if this is, somehow, _my_ fault.

"Why are you looking at me that way?" Asking, but not too sure I want to know, I mean, he does look rather pissed off.

Harm shakes his head and sighs. "This is your fault, you know? If you never would have gotten pissed off with me over some stupid mistake, I wouldn't have had to send the flowers, the General wouldn't have found out and chewed my six out for not letting him know."

"Not letting him know?" Like it matters if he knows or not? As long as we are the same rank and not married, there really isn't a problem with us two dating. Not to mention, we've kept it, all of it, out of the office thus far. "What does he want? A detailed timeline as to how it happened?"

"This isn't funny! For one reason or another, he is pissed off, Mac." He crosses his arms across his chest and leans up against my desk. "Talk to him, he _likes_ you. You're like his. . .his. . .sidekick!"

I stand there with my mouth wide open. "Sidekick?" He thinks I'm the General's sidekick? "Harm, if it wasn't because of my upbringing and how much I don't want to be like my father, I would smack you right now." If he thinks I was pissed last night, well, this just elevated the whole thing up several notches. I open the door angrily, causing the blinds to slam against the window. It's a miracle the damned things haven't broken off yet with the tantrums I've thrown throughout the years. "I'll go to the General, Harmon and let him know what is going on and that it won't disrupt the office. Now, please get the hell out of my office. I shall meet you in an hour and twenty minutes downstairs to grab one of the fleet cars."

"Mac, look. . .I."

I shoot him my death glare and with a lowered head, he relents and heads out of my office. I was tempted to slam the door behind him, but I caught Creswell walking through the bullpen. This wouldn't be the right time to make a scene. "Good morning, Colonel. . .with me." He said pointing ahead of me. Just what has my flyboy gotten us into?

Standing at attention in Creswell's office, I find myself starting to freak out, something I don't do easily. But when your CO spends a good three minutes just letting you stand there while he goes through files on your desk, well, that's never a good sign. "How are you and the Commander getting along?"

I would grimace if I could. "Sir, the Colonel and the Commander have an excellent rapport."

Creswell snorts. I am thinking he doesn't believe that? Harm and I do have our moments, but, we've both learned to leave them in the courtroom. At least, I hope we have. "An excellent rapport?" Shaking his head, he grins and then points to the seat behind me. "At ease, Colonel, take a seat."

"Thank you, sir." I sit down, oddly finding myself sitting at attention for some odd reason. Damn Harm and his flowers. Okay, I don't mean that, it was sweet, but, who would have thought that flowers would have Creswell looking at me like this! "Have the Commander or myself done anything to offend you?"

Ah, and that glare of his just gets worse. I am suddenly thinking that he would make good on his Aleutians promise. "Not exactly, but it does. . .perturb me that neither you nor the Commander saw it fit to inform me that you've chosen to change of status to your relationship." I swear, only he or Chegwidden could make something as simple as 'I hear you two are dating.' sound professional and lawyerly. "And, I've been in enough commands to know that certain status changes can destroy the fragile sensibilities of any chain of command." I really, really, really, did I mention really? – hope that he is not thinking about that. . .thingy – ok, fine – _affair_ with John Farrow.

Right now, though, the only thing that comes to mind are all of the warm clothing I am going to have to start packing because I am going to freeze my ass off in the Aleutians. I guess it is best to fess up and pray or pray and fess up? "General, there has been a change in status in our relationship. . .It is something that both the Commander and I have chosen to embark upon." Wow, this sounds like I'm giving some sort of speech. Did I just use the word embark? Oh, how poetic, rather – pathetic. Anyway, "I realize that we have not notified you of, said, change in status. . .The Commander and I have mutually consented to keeping the status of said relationship undisclosed to any of our colleagues and our commanding officer." Oh, yea, that glare, getting worse. Maybe I should just go home and pack, for that matter, so should Harm, though I imagine that Creswell wouldn't have the good graces to pack us both off together. "Our relationship does not and will not go against the balance of this chain of command, we are seeing to that."

Creswell raises an eyebrow, both actually, and I sit here trying to catch my breath. "Then why the hell does your office look like a jungle?"

"May I speak freely, sir?" No holes barred! Once he nods, I shoot straight from the hip. "Sir, that is non of your business."

Is that a smile I suddenly see sneaking out? "I could order you."

"And I still wouldn't tell you, sir. . . Suffice to say, we had a disagreement and the Commander feels he needs to extravagantly make it up to me." I try to say that without smiling, but Creswell's sudden laughter is contagious.

Clearing his throat, he settles into his chair. "I have to apologize if I made things worse between the two of you, but I do like to keep you two stewing for the bit."

"Apology accepted, sir. . ." Whew!

Standing, he comes around and hands me a folder. "That's the last information that came in on the investigation you and Commander Rabb are going on. I expect the two of you to keep that excellent rapport on it's track."

"We will, sir." Though, right now, we definitely need to stay in two different hotel rooms. Ah, well, he does need to stew doesn't he? "I am curious, General, what did you tell the Commander? He seems. . .upset."

Creswell leans up against his desk and grins. "I told him to keep it out of my office and threatened with having him grounded if he didn't. . .I also told him that if he does anything to hurt you, he'd have to face me and Admiral Chegwidden who warned me to keep an eye on the two of you."

Well, as usual, the flyboy has the way of taking certain things out of context and warping them in his nutty, sexy, little mind. Gotta love that man, though. I am so smitten, we really have to make up now. "I am just happy you aren't shipping us off to the Aleutians."

"If either of you try a stunt like Rabb pulled today, consider yourself packed and on the next flight over. . .dismissed." He was smiling when he said that. But, it wasn't a nice, warm or fuzzy smile. He was being serious.

I snap to attention and bark out an, "Aye aye, air." Before heading off to find my partner.

Hours later, I settle myself into the nice, comfy bed that the Days Inn has provided courtesy of the Navy. The VOGs, DVQs, VAQs and any other Qs you can think of, are all full. Apparently there is some convention of sorts down here in Norfolk and some of us officers are being shipped to hotels. Not that I mind, but it's a pain not to be close to the base. Anyway, we'll make due.

I glance over to the door and, no doubt, my boyfriend, who is now angry with me is probably lying in bed, thinking the same things. I've tried to get the man talking to me, but, apparently, he didn't think much of my discussing our relationship with the General. According to Harm, he kept his mouth shut the entire time in there. Ah, no wonder Creswell was ticked off. I tried to smooth things on the ride over, but he kept his eyes to the road and his mouth closed, save for the rather heated argument about my want to keep our relationship to myself vs. my decision to blab it to our CO. Somewhere in the middle of it all, as he would shoot me a dirty look, I decided to stay ticked off at him. And now, as I lay alone in my bed, I start to realize how much I need him here. Not physically, I mean, that is nice and all. Okay, it's not just _nice_, it's mind blowing, exhilarating and passionate – the word, 'rapture' comes to mind. I never, in my wildest, would have thought being intimate with a man could be that good. Either that or I am entirely biased when it comes to Harm, which is not a bad thing.

"YOU'RE NOT MAC!" Sitting up in bed, it takes my brain just a second or two to realize that's Harm's voice. Getting out of bed, I head over to the door and poke my head out.

There is now another person yelling, a female. "You sicko! Pervert! I am going to call security!"

"Woah! Hey, lady! I'm sorry, I thought you were my girlfriend." Oh dear, Jesus. He's standing in the hallway, buck naked save for the pillow he's holding in front of his unmentionables as someone from inside the room is flinging clothing at him. "Ma'am please don't throw the. . ." Ouch, it hits the top of his head. "Shoe." How do we get ourselves into these things? "Thank you." He says as she slams the door with a few choice words thrown at him for good measure.

I race into the hallway, careful not to crack up, but the expression on his face is just killer. "You alright there, flyboy?" I say between chuckles. Bending down, I start to pick up the clothing that was pooled around him. Some of the other patrons have also come out to see what the ruckus was about.

I figured this would probably embarrass Harm, but instead, he uses his free hand to rip the clothes from my grasp. "Excuse me, Colonel. . I am going to my room." I know better than to argue, I mean, we'll both eventually be laughing over this. I'll probably be laughing more than he will, but. . .oh well. Now, the moment he tries to get inside his room, I hear him groan loudly and shoot off a nice collection of profanities. "Damned door!" It's locked.

"Harm." I say, carefully grabbing his arm. "Come into my room. If you really want to spend the night across the hall from me, I'll call up the front desk and ask them to come open your door."

He concedes basically because it's either that or sleep in the hallway. Gingerly, I pull him into my room and watch as he slips into the bathroom. It takes him a minute to come out dressed. "Did you call the front desk?" He asks and I shake my head 'no' as an answer. "I'll call then."

As he tries to reach for the phone, I place my hand over it and glance up at him. "Can we talk?"

"I don't want to talk." Argh, men, stubborn.

I stand up and give him that Marine death glare and I swear, he's suddenly relenting. "Sit down. .. please."

With a sigh, one of those typical, male, 'I am trying to stay pissed off at you but it's just not working' type of sighs, he plops himself on the bed and looks at me. "Okay, what is it."

"What happened from yesterday to today? I mean, yes, I was upset, you said a few stupid comments, but today, at the office and the ride over here, you were impossible."

"Me!" He yells and I shh's him. We've already had _one_ spectacle, I am not in the mood to make it two. "You're the one that goes in there and blabs to the Genera about our love life!"

He's talking as if I gave the man some sort of intimate detail, like the fact that he gets goose bumps if you rub the back of his knee. "All I told him was that yes, we were together and we would behave. That's it. . .he practically gave us approval and told me that he told you that if you hurt me, he'll shoot you." Well, that wasn't it exactly, but Creswell looks the type to hunt down men for mistreating women. "Harm, I love you and I want this to work and for it to work, we need to come out and tell people what's going on."

Harm knows I'm right, I can see it in his eyes. With another sigh, his shoulders slouch and he gets this slight frown. "I know we couldn't keep this hidden forever, but I wanted time with you. Time alone without people _knowing_. I wanted you to myself."

I sit next to him and run my hand up and down his back. He tenses at first, then relaxes as I work my fingers on a knot I've found on his shoulder blade. "Baby, I know. But, it's not like you are going to share me with anyone. . .I'm a one man type of girl." I say with a slight grin and a bat of my eyelashes which has him chuckling. "I love you. . .and come hell or high water, this is going to work, because I can't see myself with anyone but you. My heart belongs to you." I pull out the charm he gave me a few weeks ago and dangle it in front of him.

"You wore it?" He takes the charm in his hand, careful not to pull too much on it.

Leaning in, I kiss him on his cheek and wrap my arms around his shoulders. "I never take it off." And I do mean never, like, not even when I shower.

Looking into my eyes, I can see that mischievous glint there that takes my breath away. So much for getting two hotel rooms, I have a feeling he'll be spending the night here. "Oh yea, I remember walking into your room the night I gave it to you." I remember too, especially the look of shock on his face. "You were stunning, wearing only this."

"I can give you a replay if you like." Man, I am so smitten it's pathetic.

Harm grins. "Only if we agree to get past this little tiff."

"I agree." With several kisses, and a nice, long night of love making, our first, real argument, came to an end.

TO BE CONTINUED. . .


	15. Got Ink?

Okay, so JAG's sorta over (we still have reruns! ;)), but I promised to continue with these, didn't I? See, I am not so bad. ;) Muahahaha... Anyway. .. This part came about for two reasons 1- I have 8 of them (well more, but when you add one design to another design it becomes one instead of two... hope that makes sense shrugs) and 2- I think some men are soooooooo hot with them. . .. Curious aren't you? Read on and more from me at the bottom. ;)

Enjoy!

Jackie

Part 15 – Got Ink?

"Harm, are you sure this is a good idea? I mean, you're as white as sheet, flyboy." Is this a good idea? Is this a good idea? You know, an hour ago, it was. But it's funny how your perception changes from the time you think of something until the time you execute it. An hour ago, I was Mr. Macho Man, willing to do just about anything so that I could look like the cool dude on the block. But now, as I slide my six onto this metal chair, I am beginning to panic and I'm man enough to admit it.

"Oh yea, I'm. . f-f-ine, just dinner didn't agree with me is all." Okay, so I can admit that I am a wussy to myself, but not to my girlfriend nor Razor, the heavily inked, freaky, earring wearing, tattoo artists who promised me that the pain is part of the fun. I take a firm grasp on the clipboard he's given me, the one with the words 'Sign Your Life Away' printed at the very top in red lettering that makes it look as if blood is running off of each word. I scan through the information, checking off 'no' to a series of health questions. Save for the fun intro to the waiver, this seems to be a bit too serious. Like, needing to go to the hospital if things go wrong, serious. As I get to the part where I am about to sign my name, I cast a glance up at Razor who is chatting away with Mac over a tattoo that he and his girl got together. "Umm, Razor?" Really, how in the world could some tattoo artist call himself that? I mean, a call sign for a pilot, suuuuure, but a tattoo artist?

Razor glances down at me and smiles. I swear, if it weren't for that smile, I'd have bolted out of here, the man looks like that type that would eat his young. "What's up, dude? Any problems?"

I gulp as discretely as possible, then clear my throat pointing at one of the questions. Specifically the one about a tattoo being permanent and how getting it removed might disfigure my skin. Greaaaaaaat. "Yea, um, I know you went over the health concerns, but could you do it again?"

Mac does this half - not really wanting to, but it happened anyway - sort of snort and I shoot her _my_ death glare. It sucks, sometimes, that she knows me this well. Though, I am not sure if she knows how bad my fear of needles is. "Harm, I have two tattoos and I haven't dropped dead yet. My first one, I got a very, very, very, very long time ago and, here I am." She says spreading her arms akimbo.

"Yea, dude. There's really not much to it. I'm really fast so we'll be done in no time." Razor adds, then heads around the tattoo station and towards this room in the back. I am not sure if being really fast is a good thing in this profession. (AN: It is. ;) "As for the pain, dude, once your endorphins kick in, it's not so bad." Endorphins! Just how much of my body do I need to give up to get some ink on my arm? He disappears into the room and then I hear some slight humming sound coming from within.

"What in the hell is that?" I ask Mac, staring up at her, I am sure, with a scared little puppy dog expression.

Sitting on Razor's seat, she leans forward and runs her hands slowly up and down my arms. "It's nothing."

But, her caresses, at this moment, aren't working. "The hell it isn't!"

She doesn't laugh like I expected she would, instead, Mac leans in and explains. "It's something called an autoclave which sterilizes the needles. . . Harm, if you really aren't sure about this, it's not too late to back out. . . Getting inked is a serious thing, you don't have to do it now, or ever if you don't want to." Mac's been sincere, so sincere that I almost do get up and just head out leaving Razor with his needles.

Now, I know, why would you do something that scares you so much? Well, to be honest, I've always had fascination with tattoos and have kept off of getting my own because of my fear of needles. But, ever since finding that 'classified' tattoo of Mac's I've been itching to get of my own. I grin slightly – ooooh Mac's tattoo. . .Well, tattooS, she has two, one on her ankle – a heart with the word 'Love' in it, which she hides with concelant and panty hose. And the second, on her bikini area – a bleeding rose. Ironic isn't it, considering we met in a rose garden. Yea, she thought so too. It's sexy as hell and feels a bit different from a regular patch of skin, maybe slightly rougher. I confess, it drives me wild to touch it, run my lips over it as I kiss Mac intimately. It's the thought of what she would do with my tattoo that holds even more of a fascination. I can practically feel her lips on my skin. . .I grin up at her, diffusing my kinky thoughts as those gorgeous brown eyes lock onto mine. "I want to get one, I do. . .I just have this. . .fear of needles."

Mac nods. "Okay, then, you don't have to look, you can hold my hand. If you feel sick, he can stop." Which would be rather silly! Watch the man get through a line, then have to stop. I'd never be able to live that down, that my tattoo is a straight line because I didn't' have the umm. . . well, you know, to get through it.

Oh, and did I mention the name of this place? Get this, it's called Rusty Needles. That alone nearly had me running down the block for dear life. "Okay, dude, got your needles." Razor scoots Mac out of the way and takes a seat, then proceeds to put on black, latex gloves.

Woah, wait a minute, back up! Did he just say NEEDLES? As in MORE THAN ONE? "Uh, needles? Like you need more than one?"

Razor grabs this cellophane like sheet and wraps it around this telescopic, cushiony, armrest with a Maltese cross as its base. Then he puts some on this knob and stands to take out the paint from a shelf. "Yea, well, some dudes they only use one needle, that will take longer than if you use three or five." Oh, yea, _that_ sure makes me feel better. He takes these huge, squeezable tubs of paint and uses the nozzle to pour some into these little, upside-down top hat looking cap thingies. Then he takes the wrapper with the needles and opens it up in front of me. Oh My God. "So you can see, dude, I took them out in front of you, they haven't been touched." Uh huh, whatever, dude. He then unwraps some silver, wide and round metallic piece which the needles slips through and then proceeds to wrap a rubber band around what, has to be, the tattooing part of the machine.

It buzzes a few times and each time I feel my six lift off the seat. The only reason I haven't bolted yet is because, somehow, without me noticing, Mac's taken a hold of my hand. I stare up at her and she stares down with an encouraging smile. Okay, I am man enough to do this. I hope. "Best idea is to take off the shirt, dude. Sometimes a little paint will splatter." I do that as Rusty grabs the sketch of my tattoo, which they print on this special paper that leaves an outline when pressed onto wet skin. Or so, that's how Mac explained it to me. He wets my skin with a squeeze bottle, not unlike those used to water small plants, and explains that he only uses surgical soap. Well, okay, I feel _slightly _better. Pressing the special paper to my skin, it leaves an outline of what the tattoo would look like, with this purpleish ink. "Don't freak about the purple, dude, that will come off, it's just so I can see what I am doing." He grins at me, affixes the outline then points to the mirror behind me. "Make sure that's where you wanna stick it, dude."

With a sigh, I stare at myself in the mirror, catching Mac's reflection as she stands behind me grinning. I study the tattoo from different angles feeling slightly self-conscious at being half naked in front of Rusty. With a nod, I settle down on the seat again. "Looks good to me." Though, I am not entirely sure I'd have said anything even if the design was upside down. I don't want to piss the tattoo artist off just before he starts to wield a needle – correction – needleS.

"Okay dude, here we go, no guts, no glory." Oh God. Rusty scoots himself close to me, buzzes the tattooing contraption a few times, then I feel his free hand pressed up my skin. JESUS! "Just breathe, dude."

Breathe in, breathe out, breathe in. .. I wonder if Mac will think any less of me if I pass out just now? She's still holding my hand and I am glancing in her general direction as I feel the searing pain. "Just relax, Harm." She's trying to sound sweet, reassuring, but all I care about is trying this breathing technique that is supposed to alleviate the pain. At least, I am not screaming. Though, I would be if I wasn't biting my lower lip.

The pain, is a cross between getting slightly electrocuted and someone running their nails down sunburned skin. As I breathe, I find that it's getting to be much better, still painful, but more like an annoyance than a – I am going to die – type of thing. "How far along are you?" I ask, wanting to cast a glance towards Razor and his needle, but being too chicken to do so.

"About a quarter done with the outline." Outline? Oh, yea, right! Mac explained that they do the outline first and then shade in the rest. "You're doing good, dude. At least you haven't passed out."

Yea, he just had to mention that didn't he? As the minutes go on by, Razor occasionally sprays me with the surgical soap which gives this nice, cool sensation to my skin before continuing to tattoo. He has a paper towel wrapped around his knuckles which he used to wipe off the excess ink and bit of my blood. Yea, I am looking, cautiously, but I am looking. I take a deep breath and watch as he dips the needle in paint, then goes back to my arm to put the finishing touches on the outline. This whole, 'being fast' is a good thing, I decide as I watch the design taking form quickly. I have to admit, everyone was right about the pain, after a while it gets easier, more like a dull annoyance than anything.

I peak over at Mac who is watching Razor's work with a grin on her lips. "You're doing good, sailor." She says, giving me a genuine smile. I guess this is a big step for us, I know that is for me. Now, I am not too sure I will like Doctors any better after this, but I might have less of a fear for needles. "I'm proud of you." She says and squeezes my hand a few times before our gazes both travel to Razor.

Thirty minutes later, I feel Razor spritz my arm with surgical soap and wipe off any remnants of extra ink. With a grin, he points at the mirror and tells me to take a look. I stand, surprised that I am not wavering at all, and stand before the mirror, flexing my guns. The reflection is absolutely amazing and I find myself having a new respect for this form of art. Staring back at me is an image of myself, on my arm is a newly inked set of goldwings which, I swear, look better than the ones I wear on my chest. They are large, with very intricate detailing of the Navy symbols in the middle. Below in small lettering is the inscription – In Loving Memory – Harmon Rabb Senior – along with Dad's year of birth and year of death. I wasn't going to put that on at all, it just didn't really occur to me. But, when Mac suggested it, I had to.

"Okay, dude, take a seat." Razor instructs me and I do as I am told to find him preparing these plastic gauze pads. "Don't remove the bandages for two hours. . .after then you can wash it with warm water and soap and pat it dry with a towel very gently, like dude. . .Now, you gotta go and buy 'fragrance free' lotion, doesn't matter what kind and apply a light coat. Don't re-bandage that sucker. . . And every day you gotta do the same thing, dude. You wash it, pat it dry, then you put the lotion on. . . The idea is that it's a wound that you need to heal, but you still want the ink to stick. So, if you don't put lotion on it, it'll scab and the friggin ink will just fall off with the scabs. Got it dude?" I nod, but, just in case, he slides me a business card that has all of the aftercare details. "Oh, and don't get any sun on it, until it heals and no swimming or long showers. You wanna keep that dry. And don't pick on the scabs, dude, else you won't have a tat left." Again, all of those instructions are on the back of the card, but it's cool that he chooses to try and beam them into my brain anyway.

After paying, Mac and I head on out of there and I give her the keys to drive my Vette. "You're letting me drive your Vette?" She asks, absolutely surprised seeing I never let _anyone _ drive my baby.

I nod. "Yep, this took a lot out of me."

She chuckles slightly and slides behind the wheel, adjusting the seat so she could reach the pedals. "You would think you just gave birth or something, Harm. . .It's just a tattoo."

"It is, but I also overcame my fear of needles. . .I think." Hmm, time will tell, next time I have to get a vaccination for something.

She puts the key into the ignition, puts the car in neutral and pulls up the emergency brake. Mac turns to me slowly, her lips curling up in this sexy little grin. Well, it's beyond sexy, more like a predator who has just captured her prey. I raise my eyebrows in question and she leans over the gear shift, her lips nibbling my neck slowly. "You know." She breathes into my ear and if I wasn't feeling faint before, I sure am now! "I think a man with a tattoo is VERY sexy."

"Oh yea?" I choke over the words, her ministrations having me 'this' close to losing it.

Mac backs away from me and gets this full, wicked grin. Damn, she is soo hot. "Oh yea, just wait until it heals." She says, then puts the car in reverse and backs us out of the space.

I am curious now. "Uh, what happens then?" Suddenly, my mind is being flooded by my previous images of Mac 'enjoying' my tattoo.

"Wait and see." Ah, I hope this thing heals quickly else, I am going to be one frustrated sailor!. . .

TO BE CONTINUED. . .

AN2: Okay, so I said more from me, here goes. First off "Harm would never get a tattoo!" Probably not, but this is MY realm and I happen to think guys with tattoos are hot. Mind you, not a zillion tattoos (though some with a zillion are hotties too), but one ore two placed in the right spots. Grrrrrrrr! As a postcard I have says "Never mind the girlie toys, I want tattooed boys" Hehehe. - I tried to account, as best as possible, what it's like when you go through the process.

I was nervous the first time and, haven't really been nervous there after. I wasn't freaking out like Harm was either, but I had to add that in since it was his POV. As for the pain, depends on where you stick it. To me, it hurts like someone running a nail over sunburned skin, but, as time goes on, it's just an annoying sort of thing. Depending where you put it – painful places: ankle, chest, inner arm, neck, face, calve – it's not so bad. The one on my neck was the most painful one, and the one on my wrist only hurt when the needle went over the wrist bone, but my tattoo artist is fast so it went by quickly. If anyone has questions, wants to get one, has no clue, or are just curious, e-mail me – - with questions, I have absolutely no problems answering them. Oh and my tattoo guy does not say "dude" every third word, that was some, comic relief of sorts. ;) We'll get more of Mac's reaction on the next chapter where she has to take care of our favorite flyboy as his arm heals.


	16. Aftercare

I was, originally going to wrap this story around chapter 15, but then I got more ideas and it's still going strong.

So, here's where you come in. Do you want this to keep going indefinitely, (well as much as one can write something indefinitely) or do you want me to start a series – Fine Art of Dating, Fine Art Of Courting, Fine Art Of Marriage? I can do one of two things, combine them all together, change the name of this story to "The Fine Art Of Love" and instead of splitting the three, just keep it going as one? Up to you! ;)

Enjoy!  
Jackie

Thanks to: e-dog, Macaroon, BeachChick, Dessler, dansingwolf, Maria, blueangel, Vrbinka, BiteBeccy, SarahRabb, my.evian, anna, Jaggie107, snugglebug, Manda, Lisa, cbw, Xblue, froggy, aserene, crazybum, VrbinkaCZE, sally, trooper, starryeyes, Martini, NavyBabe, jaggurl, Nix, joanoa, jagdreamer, Kinga, JAGChic, Jagfan 724, littlemaccyd, ninjaturtle, blueangel, Kinga, JK, zoomie, myevian, CathyF, CBW, jagdreamer, joanoa, alix33, arian, Lurkz, LiseGirardi, Beach chickJASSNL, Tracy, Lisa, roz, Peggy, Elizabeth Ayers, Disaster Child, trooper, LtCmdrFlygirl, Roz, Peggy, KJFlygirl, Roxie, ltcolonelnijgagrl, hellen, Jill, and mizukimar for the feedback :)

PART 16 – Aftercare

"Mac, I need the cream please! Hurry!" With a sigh, I lean against my kitchen counter, placing the knife which I was using to cut tomatoes with down next to the cutting board. I am slightly tempted to grab said knife and hack off Harm's tattoo! The man is driving me absolutely, positively INSANE! "MAAAC!"

Okay, that does it! "I AM COMING DAMNIT!" Jesus, you would think the man has gone through major surgery! Taking a few, very much needed, deep breaths, I take the cream (I literally have a small bottle of fragrance free cream at every room in the apartment. Harm keeps losing the bottle, so he winds up just buying another one and then, miraculously, the original bottle shows up somewhere. Safe to say, I won't have dry hands in a very long time.) and head over to my boyfriend who has his arm propped up on a pillow which is propped up on the armrest of my sofa. You would figure he broke his arm or something! "Here, flyboy." As cheerily as possible, I place the bottle right on his lap, then turn to, attempt to finish dinner. Course I can't even get a foot away from the sofa before Harm starts whining.

"You aren't going to put some on my arm?" Harm does a great impersonation of a little kid who has wrapped their parent around their finger and knows just how to manipulate anything to go their way. So far, I've allowed it, knowing how badly he hated needles, yet had the guts for this. Now, if I hear him whine one more time. . . "It's starting to dry."

I glance down at the goldwings and, I have to say, Razor did a fabulous job on them. They really look good on Harm, now if it would only heal so I could touch it. Really, it might sound sick, but there is something so erotic about tattooed skin. Must be my former bad girl side talking. What amazes me is how quickly Harm's skin has healed. Some people, it can take up to two weeks. My ankle, which I got done about three years after meeting Harm, was fine and dandy in one week, where my other tattoo took about three. I guess it has to do with the location and how much air you get on the skin. Whenever Harm's in his office, he lifts the sleeves of his summer whites up and, at home (mine or his) he either goes without a shirt or with a tank top.

Frowning, I look up at Harm who is giving me this innocent look that I just ain't buying. "You picked at it!" I accuse, knowing, full well that, though scabs will form, it's not supposed to look like you have eraser shavings over your skin. (AN: Hehehe, I did that once. If you get a tat – DON'T pick on the scabs!)

He gives me that 'how dare you!' look of his and I am tempted to just smack him over the head with the pillow. "I _did not_ pick at it. And, even if I did, how would you know?"

I sigh, this is turning out to be an adventure. "Harm, I have two tattoos. . . Friends of mine, back in Arizona, also had tattoos. Trust me, I _know_." Choosing not to tell him about another fracas with Mr. Ragle and myself, I skip entirely a story about when Chris got his fifth tattoo and, while drunk started to pick at the scabs. In the end he was supposed to tattoo my name and ended up with something that looked like the word 'RAH.' Of course, he blamed it on me for not taking care of him. Like I was supposed to know that could happen? Well, now I know!

Harm relents, grabs the cream and starts to lather a hefty amount over the area. "I know the card Razor gave me says to use a small amount, but if I do, my skin gets itchy." He is right about that. A tattoo, is, basically a wound. Unlike other wounds, you really want this one to leave a mark, so you need to keep it moist so that, when it does scab, the ink doesn't scab off. And, like any true wound, it will, periodically itch. He glances up at me, flyboy grin up to full wattage and then gazes at his arm. "So, you like it huh?"

"Nope, not at all." I tease and try to make my way back to the kitchen, when Harm pulls me onto his lap. He wraps an arm around me (the tattooed one stays on the arm rest) and starts to kiss me slowly. No doubt, he still feels the need to make 'tattoo night' up to me. See, the night he got tattooed, we came directly home, waited the two hours and then went through all of the aftercare process. . . . .

. . . .I would love to say that it was uneventful, but nothing between us ever is. Harm was walking around with his arm held up at an odd angle, almost as if he'd recently been shot and was trying to stop the blood from leaking. Oh, and the blood. Yea, you bleed when you are getting a tattoo, but it's not like guts are gushing out or anything. I mean, it's a little amount of blood that bubbles up, just like when you get an injection. Well, the moment, I take off the bandage to pear at the freshly tattooed skin, Harm almost faints. The rest of the cleaning process is spent with him sitting on the head, while I cleansed his skin.

Then came bedtime. And this day will, for sure, live in Rabb/MacKenzie infamy. He was laying on his back on my bed as I went through my usual, nocturnal routines (brushing hair, brushing teeth, using the restroom, etc.). I hadn't anticipated that he wanted to be intimate, I mean, the whole inking process seemed to take a lot out of him. Settling in next to him, somehow, we wound up getting playful – kissing, nibbling, etc. Next thing I know, Harm grabs me, trying to flip me onto the mattress and under him. Well, that just didn't work out as well as he'd hoped. And, okay, yes, I was, sort of, my fault. In his swift, sneaky movement, I grab onto him, worried that we'd fall off the bed. Somehow, I manage to scrape what little nails I have across his freshly inked skin. Harm literally kicks me off the bed and I wind up, on the floor with a bruised six and a cut on my forehead, just under the hairline, from where my head hit the corner of the night table.

A trip to the emergency room, six stitches and three days later, the trauma continued. We were at Ops, in the break room having our morning cup of Java with Bud and Sturgis when the General, followed by Lieutenant Slime (Harm and mine's pet name for Vukovic) and an overly enthusiastic Petty Officer Coates come in. "Colonel, what happened to your head?" Bud and Sturgis had just, simultaneously, asked me the same thing. I stood there for a moment, trying to formulate some sort of answer (like the one Harm and I made up since we still haven't told people about us.) and all I could come up with was a lame. . .

"Oh, I fell off the bed, hit my head on the bedside table." Which wasn't too unfathomable, plenty of people still fall off beds right?

However, the General levels his gaze at Harm, who then starts to choke on his bran muffin. I give him a good whacks on the back and, swallowing some coffee, he manages to mutter out a strangled, "I'm fine, thanks."

The General glances at me as well and I am slightly curious if I should even be seen in the same room with Harm. I am not sure if the General knows that the others don't know, well, save for Lt. Slime which is grinning his ass off. But this isn't really the place and time that I want to tell our friends. "Commander Rabb, please keep your eye on the Colonel today. I know she sometimes likes to have us believe she is alright, when it's just the opposite." And with that, he grabs his coffee and heads out of the break room.

"Something funny Lieutenant?"

I immediately attack Vukovic who wipes that smirk away with a quick, "No, ma'am. . .nothing at all." Knowing better than to stick around for this one, he grabs his coffee and bids his goodbyes. Thankfully, the most of our break room adventure is, non-eventful though I do get some good natured ribbing from Sturgis and Bud. Harm, wisely keeps his mouth shut, until Sturgis is about to head out to his office. In one of his friendly, 'whack your buddy!' type of ways, Sturgis slaps Harm's tattooed arm.

"AHHHHHHHH! SON OF A. . ." Harm yelled, a bit too loudly and unbecoming for a Naval officer and, soon, not only do Creswell, Vukovic and Jen head in, but so does half the bullpen. My eyes widened as I try to process how a man like Harm could have been beat up, cut up, had his legs broken, and yet, he can't take the pain of a measly tattoo. Maybe it's all part of the façade we put up behind the uniform? Wait, he WAS behind his uniform. He glances around, pulling up the shirt sleeve to take a look at the cream that is smeared all over the place. "Jesus, Sturgis!"

Turning to everyone but us, Creswell barks out a, "Back to work people." Then walks in and studies Harm's tattoo. "Ah, goldwings, very nice Commander." Grinning, he leans in a bit more. "I've always wanted one, but I am too chicken to get one done. . . You're a brave man, Commander."

I really could not help and snort at that one. Oh yea, I should have had a camera to tape the blessed tattoo event. "Not really, sir. . .I am not a fan of needles and. . .well it was _interesting._" Wow, Harm admitting a fear? We really _have_ come along! The boys spend a few extra minutes going over Harm's tattoo story as I quietly slipped on out giving Harm a knowing look. . . . . .

. . . . Now, sitting on his lap, being smothered with kisses, I don't feel as pissed off at him as I was for wanting me to baby him. "Mmm, Harm, maybe we should wait until it really heals. . .You and I tend to be accident prone." His objection comes in the form of a long, smoldering kiss.

He moves me slightly, in a way that he is able to push me onto the sofa, his body covering mine. "I don't want to wait." Oh yea, waiting is totally overrated! I wrap my arms around him, bringing him close and mentally reminding myself not to touch his inked skin which is such a temptation. Sigh, eventually I'll get to have my fun with him though. Coming up for air, he hovers over me, cocky grin in place. "So you think that guys have a tattoo are sexy?"

Uh, I plead the fifth. Though, if memory serves, it's exactly what I told him the night he had one done. "Some are." I tease.

"Am I?" He teases right back and, really, isn't that a stupid question? Is he sexy? If Harm were anymore sexy, I'd have to beat the women away with baseball bats. Wait, I almost have to already. I grin up at him, and try to bring my head up to kiss him, but Harm moves away with a grin of his own. "So? Am I?"

Oh, I just can't help it, so what if I inflate his ego just a bit more. "You are the hottest, sexiest, most mind-blowing man on the planet, Harmon Rabb Junior." For good measure, I wrap my legs around his waist, tugging him down slightly.

Instead of Harm getting his famous, cocky grin, he just stares down at me as if I am the only thing in the world that he sees. "I love you, Sarah." And my heart melts just a little bit more making me wonder just how much more in love someone could be. "And I know I drive you crazy sometimes, but I do appreciate you putting up with me."

I force the little tears of happiness not to well up, but they do anyway. "Though you drive me crazy, I love you anyway." With that, I pull him down, kissing Harm soundly on his lips. . . .

PS: If you have a tattoo question - radiorox(at)bellsouth(dot)net - I'll vill answer it. I have, like I said somewhere, 8, so yea, I know the ropes. LOL! And BTW - Some men really are that bad, I've seen a few pass out just as Joe, my tattoo artist, pulled out the ink. Hehehe.

Ink65 - LOL! Yea, it was dedicated to yer name, dood. ;)


	17. Bubble Wrap

Okay people, you know you've done it! You know you want to do it! And You know that, after reading this, you might head off tomorrow and buy some. Hell, you might even take out that hidden stash you have and give it a go. I know, how it works, because, sighs I too am an addict. . .so are Harm and Mac, so we are in good company. ;)

Enjoy. . .Jackie

PART 17 – Bubble Wrap

(Pop.) (Pop.) (Poppop.) (Pop.) This is a sick (Pop.) addiction. (Pop.) I mean, really (Pop.) I am a grown man (Pop.) sitting next to a very (Pop.) gorgeous (Pop.), sexy (Pop.), sensual (Pop, pop.) woman. (Pop.) and all (Pop.) I can do is. . .

I turn slowly to Mac, and glare her down with a look that could kill. "You just popped one of _mine_." I accuse, staring at the sheet of bubble paper that is draped between us. "What? Is there just not enough for the both of us? You have to come over to _my_ side of the bubble wrap and pop one of my bubbles?"

Mac doesn't look up at me. Actually, I am not too sure she's even listening. Intrigued with this, spawn of Satan (I mean, really, how the hell else can you attest to actually sitting around like morons popping bubbles!), she's sitting next to me, tongue darting out slightly, out of the corner of her mouth in concentration as she works on arbitrarily popping bubbles. Snorting, I take a look at her side and then at mine. Well, at least _mine_ are being popped in some sort of order. Mac is just. . .well, a maniac.

With a sigh, I return back to my popping. This really, really, really is addicting. I chuckle in though of this being the perfect weapon for the war on terror. Just drop a few cases of these over in the middle east and those boys will be so busy they wouldn't know when our troops hit them. For that matter, maybe I should anonymously send Creswell a box? After him finding out about Mac and I, he's keeping an eye on us like a hawk stalking its prey.

Casting a lazy glance over at the box by the door, I recall what started this. . .popping extravaganza, was a package that FedEx had left for Mac. She had ordered some bone kit – I really don't get how you could be an amateur paleontologist at home, but, I don't tell Mac that - and, apparently, the shipping company was just as bubble wrap happy as can be. There is probably enough to wrap up the whole damned sofa. "Harm, that was one of mine." She says, turning to me slightly as I glance down to find that my finger had, indeed, passed the invisible barrier between my side and hers.

"You popped one of mine!" I accuse again, now that I have her attention.

Mac shakes her head. "No I didn't."

"Did too."

"Did not!"

"Too!"

"Not!" Sighing, she yanks the bubble paper away from me and starts on _my _section. "Besides, it came in the box with _my_ things that _I_ ordered. So, therefore, the bubble wrap is mine." She states, almost as if she were disproving information in the courtroom. "So there."

Growling, I reach over and take my half again. "If I remember correctly, Mac. . .You said, and I quote 'Here, Harm, have fun.' And then took off to get changed. . . Then, when you came back you heard the popping and got all into it." I swear, that statement just sounded sick. Jeez, I am a prude.

Mac busts out laughing. "You did realize that statement sounded sick didn't you?"

I glare at her. "Yes, and I was intentional." It wasn't, but she doesn't have to know that. I glance down at the bubble wrap, trying to find the area that I left off at. AHA! There it is. Merrily, I start popping again to find Mac staring and chuckling. "What?"

"For Christ's sake, it's just bubble wrap, Harm, you don't have to be all precise about it." She points at my section, that I've chosen to pop in a straight line and starts giggling.

I try to take the wrap away from her, but I am a bit too late. Before I know it, she takes _my_ side in her hand and pops some huge portion of the bubble wrap. Okay, that did it. "You did _not_ just do that."

Grinning, she looks at me with big brown eyes and an air of mischief of a five year old. "Yep. . .and I _enjoyed_ it too." Leaning, in she kisses me quickly, not even letting it linger before she goes back to popping the bubble wrap. "This can get kinky." She says out of the blue. "In fact, I saw some special on TV about people who dress only in bubble wrap. . .They actually make suits out of it, bikini's. . ." Anything else she said flushes out of my ears as I start to think of Mac in a bubble wrap bikini. Whew! Wonder if I could order it!

I am grinning at her like a total idiot, I just know I am. "Hmmm, so, tell me, what sort of kinky things do _you_ like to do with bubble wrap." I am hopeful my girlfriend will ramble off some racy list, but, instead, she is staring at me as if I've grown three heads. "What?"

"Harm!" She admonishes as her cheeks take on a lovely shade of pink. My, oh, my, is Sarah MacKenzie blushing? Hmm. . .This is just too good to pass up.

Grinning, I move closer to her on the sofa until our shoulders are touching. "Now who's the prude, Mac?"

Tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear, she goes back to her arbitrary pops. "I am not a prude, flyboy." Nope, I can honestly and with all certainty say that Mac IS NOT a prude – something which I am ecstatic about.

Still, can't pass up the chance to tease her. "So, what's the problem then?"

"Well, don't you find it weird that you and I have spent the better part of twenty minutes popping bubbles." As she is saying this, her fingers are still popping away, course mine are too and I am not even aware that I was doing that.

I shrug. So she has a point there. What is it about the human psyche that will cause you to drop all things just to pop bubbles? I start chuckling as I remember one of the first cases I ever had when I was a fledgling JAG officer. "I had a case, I think it was my second about a Petty Officer that had been accused of DDO. . .We settled, but you know what he wanted me to use as his defense?" God, this is soooo classic, I can't believe I remembered until now. Mac shrugs, not looking up from the wrap as she does so. "This. . ." I lift up a piece of bubble wrap and chuckle. "He was busy popping bubble wrap and had forgotten his orders."

Mac stops and looks at me, noting I am serious she starts laughing again. "You've got to be kidding me."

"Wish I was, you have no idea how embarrassed I was to let Admiral Brovo in on that one." As I am about to start another line of popping, Mac tugs the bubble wrap away from me and starts to wind it into some small roll. "Uh, Mac? Why did you take that away from me." I know I sound like a little kid right now, but I was hoping to be done with that sheet before we head off to bed.

She raises her eyebrows and giggles slightly. "We have things to do."

Do we? It's the weekend and the only things I have to do, is her. "No we don't."

Nodding, she comes back over to me and slides into my lap. I find that she really likes it there, not that I am complaining. Anytime I can get her this close to me, it's great! "Yes. . .we . . . do." She punctuates each word with a kiss. I really hope she doesn't think that will help my sudden memory lapse. If anything, it makes it fuzzier. She stops kissing me and just grins as her hand runs up and down my leg. "You are going to look cute in tights."

Tights! OH DAMN! Yes, NOW I remember. "Oh, no. . .no no no no no, you are NOT getting me in tights!"

She grins mischievously at me and nods. "Oh yes, I am just dying to see that six of yours in tights." And by the look in her eyes, she is serious too.

There is a masquerade ball coming up, one held by JAG for the Navy/Marine Corps relief fund. Usually, it's a rather hoity toity, boring affair. This time, because of Harriet's outstanding job with the USO, she got roped into figuring this one out for us. Wanting it to be fun and different, she opted for a masquerade ball of sorts. We're supposed to go in Medieval or Renaissance style clothing. The moment the memo had been passed around the office, I swear, you could hear all of the men groaning. The women, of course, were all trading ideas on dresses, Mac was no exception. "Maaaaaaaac." I whine out. "No one else is wearing tights." Neither Bud, nor Sturgis, not even Vic agreed to the tights! "I don't want to be the only guy there in tights."

Sighing, she leans forward and kisses me, almost as if she is reassuring me, though, with Mac, you never can tell. "Fine, no tights, but we still need to go pick out our costumes." Mac trails her kisses down to my chin. If she keeps this up, there will be no costume shopping today. "And we promised Turner and the Roberts' that we would be there."

"Uh huh." I mumble out, concentrating more on what she's doing that what she's saying. And then the kisses stop altogether and Mac slides off of my lap. I pop and eye open and glance up to find her reaching her hand down to me. "We have to go now?" She nods and I groan as I stand up. This just sucks.

"Oh, cheer up, flyboy. . .Maybe, when we come back, we can have our fun with the rest of the bubble wrap." Hmm, she says that comment with a very low, very sexy voice.

"Even that kinky stuff?" I joke, but Mac whirls around and kisses me again.

"Even that kinky stuff." She says with another grin as we head out of the door. Yep, Mac's definitely NOT a prude.

TO BE CONTINUED. . .


	18. Fairytales, Swords and Truths

This part came about because I get weird catalogs in the mail. I have a small collection of fantasy knives and swords and I guess, because of that, I get this magazine about period weapons, clothing and jewelry. Some of it is really really really really nice. Expensive, but nice! So I was going through it and it gave me the idea to have them go to some costume ball.

I tried to be as descriptive as possible but it's not my forte. Hope you like :)

Jackie

Thanks to: e-dog, Macaroon, BeachChick, Dessler, dansingwolf, Maria, blueangel, Vrbinka, BiteBeccy, SarahRabb, my.evian, anna, Jaggie107, snugglebug, Manda, Lisa, cbw, Xblue, froggy, aserene, crazybum, VrbinkaCZE, sally, trooper, starryeyes, Martini, NavyBabe, jaggurl, Nix, joanoa, jagdreamer, Kinga, JAGChic, Jagfan 724, littlemaccyd, ninjaturtle, blueangel, Kinga, JK, zoomie, myevian, CathyF, CBW, jagdreamer, joanoa, alix33, arian, Lurkz, LiseGirardi, Beach chickJASSNL, Tracy, Lisa, roz, Peggy, Elizabeth Ayers, Disaster Child, trooper, LtCmdrFlygirl, Roz, Peggy, KJFlygirl, Roxie, ltcolonelnijgagrl, hellen, Jill, Kyizi, Broesel, and mizukimar for the feedback :)

PART 18 - Fairytales, Swords and Truths

I have no idea if it's the costume, or maybe it's Harm being secretive and cryptic about some aspects of tonight, but I feel like I am walking on air. This whole thing is really opening up my fancy for a fairytale life, though, I read that nothing about living in castles and being a fair maiden was all that fairytail-ish. They were hard times. Nevertheless, this is all charming.

Grinning, I study myself in front of the full length mirror in my bedroom. The gown is absolutely stunning. It's a dark green velvet, that hugs me in all the right places, then swoops down slightly reaching the floor. The collar is a 'V' accentuated in this gold trim that runs the length of the dress down. The center part of the gown and the arms have a slightly lighter green. The sleeves too were accentuated in gold. My neck is adorned with a necklace that came up close to my throat. It was covered in little, fake, emerald looking jewels, then came down to a final jewel that looked like a tear drop. The earrings matched the necklace, with teardrop and all.

I tried not to go too overboard with makeup, using just enough to bring out the natural glow of my skin. Pleased, I sit on the bed as I slip on the shoes which are actually from the same 'century' as the outfit. I was going to purchase a headdress as well, but decided to just curl my hair slightly. I have to admit, I look the part of a 14th century lady.

Grinning, I stand and head towards the living room, carefully sitting on the sofa as I wait for my man to arrive. Maybe it's stupid and I certainly don't know why it was happening, but I've had a flutter of butterflies in my stomach all day. Originally, I was going to head to his place, get dressed there and then we'd move on to the ball, but Harm objected and has been utterly mysterious since we went shopping for our costumes. He hasn't seen the dress, though he was trying to sneak a peak. And I haven't seen whatever it is that he was wearing. Okay, so yes, I am a sucker for all of these fairytale things, but, considering that the first twenty odd years of my life were so far from a fairytale, it's nice to dream every once in a while.

A knock on the door had me nearly jumping out of the gown. Calmly, I stand, taking a breath as I swoosh my way across the apartment. I am about to take a peak out of the peephole when I hear Harm from outside. "But soft! What light through yonder window breaks? It is the East, and Juliet is the sun! Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon, who is already sick and pale with grief that thou her maid art far more fair than she. Be not her maid, since she is envious. Her vestal livery is but sick and green, and none but fools do wear it. Cast it of. . ."

Opening the door, I find Harm at a sudden lost for words. "We're not Romeo and Juliet, we are Robin Hood and Maid Marion."

Those gorgeous eyes of him take me in slowly down then up. "Oh." He manages to get out as that flyboy smile graces his lips. "You look. . .indescribable. . stunning, gorgeous. . ." He brings his arm out from behind his back and presents me with one single, bright yellow rose. "For my lady." Bowing, he extends his hand and waits for me to take it before straightening up.

"Thank you, kind sir." Taking my own, slow look at his outfit, I find myself wanting him just a little more. How does he do that? Harm has on a dark green corduroy shirt with a leather front that has to be laced-up in order for it to close. His pants are slightly tight, brown and accented by chocolate colored, calf-high boots. On his arms are leather wrists bands and, of course, he has the belt with a sword hanging from it. The man just looks the part, cept, I don't think any of the men at the time had that military hair cut. No doubt the flyboy was a bit too self conscious to put on a wig. I lean forward and kiss him deeply, feeling the sword digging into my side. "I really hope that is just your sword, sailor."

Harm chuckles. "Yea, it's a bitch to get used to, so if I clobber you with it at any point tonight, forgive me." Taking my hand, he grins and adds, with an English accent. "Our chariot is waiting, my lady." God I can SO get used to this. Walking in, I search around for my keys, head out and lock the door.

Now, this brings up a bit of a logistical problem. What the hell do I do with my keys. I cram my neck slightly, trying to look down to my cleavage. "Okay, where the hell do you put keys with this outfit?"

"Oh, you can put them there, I can help you get them out later." Ah, that whole chivalrous guy went right out the window. Instead, he is leaning against the frame of the door with a grin of mischief. When I glare at him, Harm straightens up whacking the sword against the wall. "Ouch." He takes the keys from me, turns slightly to the side and places them in this pouch attached to the sword belt. "There we go, all set."

Stepping outside, I don't find a chariot, instead a sleek, black limousine. "You didn't have to do this, Harm."

"I wanted to." He leads me to the limo, allows me to get in first and then takes his time to get in. The sword's getting in the way again. I giggle slightly as he adjusts it then settles in with a huff. "Not one word Mac."

Not wanting my fairytale night to start on a bad note I stuff all of the words that I had for him and just lay my head on his shoulder with a happy sigh. Course, I get poked with the handle of the sword then look up at Harm. "I wasn't going to say anything, but. . .is that a sword in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?" Thankfully, he finds it amusing.

We arrive at the ball and immediately head over to Bud, Harriet, Sturgis and Varese who all seem surprised that we've come in together. Neither Harm nor I have managed to let that little detail that we've been dating slip out. Though, if we get into the groove of things, I doubt we'd be able to hide it any longer.

"Commander, Colonel." Bud greets us, and we exchange pleasantries with the gang. "You two look great!" He's wearing a red, long-sleeved cotton shirt, with gloves that come up to the wrists, calf-high boots with black pants and, of course the sword. Harriet has a gown, not too different from mine, but in the same red as Bud's outfit.

Sturgis has on a green tunic with black pants and that traditional hat with the feather hanging out of it. Varesese has on a very dramatic gown which is completely gold color with white accents, she looks beautiful. Actually, the three of us ladies look awesome, if I do say so myself. "I was going to wear a sword, but I couldn't stand it." Sturgis noticed Harm was fidgeting with his. Oh, yea, this night is going to get amusing. Instead, he opted for those short dagger, sword looking things, which he pats with a grin.

Harm, Bud and Sturgis were going to dress up as the three Musketeers and I imagine us three girls would have dressed like maidens. When we went costume shopping, the boys were trying on the outfits, complete with rapiers and the leather hat. All three looking dashing and debonair, but that came to a complete, slam on the breaks, stop. Several of the JAG crew had gone to the same shop and, while the guys were all Musketeered, Vukovic chose that moment to head in himself.

'You know? There were actually four Musketeers.' He interjects, grinning at me and then at the boys who were staring back at his audacity. 'I could be the forth.' His smile widens even more and I swear, he just doesn't get it. We've tried to consort with him, I've tried the friendly approach, but there is something very off putting about a JUNIOR OFFICER ogling a senior one. I have to admit, yes, it was flattering and I should have run him up on charges on zillions of occasions, but I see myself and Harm in him. Though, I don't think that neither me nor Harm have been this stupid. Granted, we've made mistakes but, just how DID he get through OCS? Food stamps?

Ah, as if on queue, Lt. Sleaze makes his way over to us. Oh no. Oh dear God, no. His date is non-other than Barbie, the countess of bimboville, the same woman who interrupted out first date. Harm and I stare at each other in disbelief. "Sirs, Ma'am." Vic goes for the pleasant approach and I notice he deliberately keeps his eyes off of me when Harm's around. Whatta wuss! "This is my date, Barbie Angelique Mardossa." He says the name as if she were royalty or something. Well, she is royal – a royal pain in the ass.

Barbie grins up at Harm in a way that could only be described as indecent. "Harmy!" Oh dear God, her voice, I swear is like someone running their fingers down a blackboard. Harm's good tough, I'll give him that. He manages to side step a hug or any other physical contact using that sword of his to whack her. I bite back a chuckle, biting my lower lip slightly. "I forgot your name." She says to me. "Sandra wasn't it?"

I plaster on my best 'I'm having the time of my life' smile and take her had, shaking with a bit too much enthusiasm. "Sarah. . . MacKenzie."

Vic seems surprised. "You three know each other?" Knowing Vic he's probably bringing up some tawdry scenario of just how well the three of us know each other. Eww! I'd rather be hanged.

Harm tries to answer, softening in the blow, but Barbie gives her own rendition. "Oh they were on a date together, he stood me up for _her._" You know, it's funny how one person could make such words sound nasty. I swear, it sounded as if Harm and I were having an illicit affair. "Apparently it's _quite serious_."

There is a collective silence among our small group. Harriet looks as if she is about to squeal, Bud and Sturgis have their mouths open, apparently trying to catch flies and Varesese, well the poor girl has no idea what is going on. Knowing the jig is up, Harm takes my hand in his, turns to our friends and smiles. "Mac and I have been together for a few months now. . .and it _is_ getting serious. . . I love her." Wow. Wow. . .Did I say Wow? I never asked him to do that, to tell people that he loved me, I just wanted to hear the words to heal my own insecurities. But having him say that, in front of our close friends, with such conviction. . .sigh, I am on a high.

As I thought, Harriet does squeal, Varesese seems happy as a clam and Bud and Sturgis, well, they haven't recovered. Neither has Vic who, I think had a feeling we'd be broken up by now. I receive a hug from both Harriet and Varesese and the boys, once they are out of their catatonic state, give Harm a 'way to go' type of pat on the back.

"So, I guess you two told the rest of the crew." Turning around I find our CO with an amused grin plastered on his face and his loving wife on his arm. "I knew you'd come around to the Marines, Commander." He shakes Harm's hand then quickly gets a stern look. "Just keep it out of the office, am I clear?"

"Aye aye, sir." Both Harm and I call out, then he takes me into his arms and kisses me softly which elicits a few cat calls, ooooh's and aaaaah's from our friends.

Vic just seems perturbed and utterly disgusted with the whole thing. Did he actually think that he was going to get the girl, meaning me, this time? I don't think it would have happened in any lifetime and especially in this one because I have been taken, for a very long time, it just ok Harm a few years to figure it out. "Want to dance, Robin?" I move out of Harm's embrace, careful of his sword and reach out a hand to him.

"Sure, let's show these guys how it's done." He lets me lead him towards the ballroom floor and we fall into perfect unison. "So, no hiding around anymore."

Harm nods. "Was fun though. . .But, I guess it will be nice to actually go out with our friends and not worry about the glances we give each other." He pulls me closer and we are dancing like lovers not working partners. "I love you, Mac. . .With all my heart."

I lay my head on his chest and sigh happily until something hard pokes me. "I love you too, Harm. . .Now will you move your damned sword out of the way?"

TO BE CONTINUED. . . .


	19. A Very Lucky Man

Hhere, yes, so it continues. I have a few ideas before I wrap this one up and then start on it's companion. ;) And if I get more ideas, the companion will just have to wait:P 

This one I wrote to stick IN a story, but took it out, added a few things seeing as it works better for this series. :) 

Hope you guys like it! 

Jackie 

Part 19 - A Very Lucky Man

We really weren't doing anything wrong. I swear it! But as I stair down at Mac who's hair is somehow caught in the fly of my pants, I can see why Mattie's face turned about sixteen shades of red. "Uh, I'll just. . .step outside. . ." Her eyes are as wide as saucers.

"NO! Come back!" Mac yells out, trying to get her hair away from the zipper. "And get the scissors!" She groans, that really can't be comfortable.

Mattie comes back, but doesn't bother peering over the island, so she won't have to spend more time wrapped up in our embarrassing predicament. "Are they still in your desk?" I nod at her and she heads off to grab the scissors. This day has just not been a good one for either of us.

This being a long weekend, Mattie decided to come spend it with me. Seeing as she was one of the people who didn't know about the change in my relationship with Mac, we decided to have a nice dinner and tell her together. I asked Mac to head to my apartment before me, seeing as I was in dire need to restock my fridge. That's when she writes something on a small piece of paper and slides it across my desk at work along with a twenty. "What's this for?"

"I need a few things." She says and as I gaze at the paper, only to find the words 'pads' followed by 'Midol' and then 'tampons.' These are certainly not words that belong in _my_, or any other, male vocabulary. Now, don't get me wrong, I am not _that_ macho that I can't pick up something for either my daughter or girlfriend, but. . .there has to be some damned good reason. Oh, _there is_, didn't I just ask her to go to my apartment in case Mattie gets there before me? Damnit. As I contemplate a way to get myself out of this, Mac is watching me with this cute look. It's almost as if she is expecting my head to start spinning or something.

I look up, smile at her as charmingly as possible and groan inwardly while sliding the twenty back to her. "Not a problem, babe, I'll see you in a few." Knowing we can't openly make out in the office, she blows a kiss at me, winks then sashays out of my office leaving the money on my desk. I stuff it into a drawer and make a mental note to slip them into her purse when she is not looking.

Going to the supermarket wasn't fun. Since it's the weekend and several nifty NBA games are on TV, everyone is, apparently, stocking up. Making a tactical decision, I gather all of my items first, chicken, steak (for Mac and Mattie), veggies, tofu, bread, some nutrition bars, fruits, the normal stuff. Knowing how much the girls love popcorn, I grab a box of the microwavable kind and then a pint of a couple different Ben and Jerry flavors.

Finally, I descend upon the alien planet that is feminine hygiene products. I moved my cart into the aisle and I swear to God, it stopped moving, almost as if the cart could sense my hesitation. Somewhere in the back of my mind I could hear the Twilight Zone theme, followed by the Psycho and Halloween themes. The aisle seemed to narrow slightly and all I kept thinking was 'Why the hell did you leave that little note of hers with details at the office!' I would call, I am sure there is _someone _there, but could you imagine if I had to have _that _conversation with the General? 'Uh, yes, sir, could you grab the piece of paper off of my desk. . .Midol, yes sir, pads, uh huh. . .thank you sir. . .No sir, they are not for me.' Yea, he'd just love that! Oh, speaking of which, I need the Midol and some Advil for me, I'm already getting a headache! I push the cart into the aisle and stop to find, not only an assortment of brands, but an assortment of TYPES. I confess, I've NEVER headed down this aisle, at all.

I glance at the boxes and packages with a slight interest. Do you _really _need to have THIS much selection? There is long, overnight, thin, medium, heavy and, the one that totally freaks me out is the one with 'wings.' What in the HELL would one of THOSE things need WINGS for? I mean, where you flying to? Maybe it causes the week long 'buddy' (Mac's word, not mine!) to 'fly by' quicker? Somehow, I doubt it. Leaning against my cart, I close my eyes in effort to remember what was on the little piece of paper. Okay, I remember she wanted pads. Well, there are a lot of those, thankfully, around that point I DO remember a brand name. Sighing, I grab the cell phone and try calling Mac. . .no dice. I call my house, nada. Great! Groaning, I decide to get every 'pad' from that particular brand name, even the ones with wings and do the same for the tampons. It was ridiculous, maybe just a bit insane, but what else was I to do? Paying was another mission, I could tell the woman behind the counter was trying hard not to lose it. I would have laughed too, I mean, I KNOW I looked ridiculous.

Getting home becomes another adventure entirely and I find the reason why Mac wasn't answer the phone. Heading around the island with my arms full of packages I find Mac, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, sitting on the floor with a rather nasty cut on her foot. "What happened?" I asked, squatting down next to Mac who was cursing loudly. Between curses she explains that she was getting juice, the glass slipped from her hand and broke to a zillion pieces. In the process of cleaning that up, she stepped on a shard.

Being the ever sweet and adoring boyfriend that I am, I take her foot gingerly in my hands and work on removing the shard. It's not bleeding too badly, but she definitely needs a bandage and some antiseptic. But first, I figure, it needs to be cleaned up and I need to make sure there isn't anymore glass on the floor. That's when this little predicament with her hair occurred.

As I go to move, Mac leaned forward. "Harm, your fly is. . ." I assume she was going to say the word 'open' but it never gets out, because, as second later, I turn quickly in front of her and feel something snag – her hair. "Ahh! Don't move, don't move, don't move!"

I stay as still as possible and try to look down. "What the hell did you do?" I didn't mean for that to come out so, mean, but really!

"I am not sure, but . . .AH!. . .hair. . .stuck." Mac moves to her knees and tries to tug her hair out of my zipper, but it only results on getting even more stuck. "Oh great! This. . is just . . . perfect!" Groaning, she tries pulling again. That was when Mattie walked in and innocently came around the island to find us in an rather. . .ummm. . .compromising position.

Coming back to the present, Mattie tentatively walks over with a face that is priceless. I glance at her, chuckling slightly which has Mac yelling at me again, "Harm! For the love of God, DON'T MOVE!"

I stay still as Mattie hands me the scissors. "Thanks Mats." I stare down and shake my head trying to find an angle where to put the scissor.

Mac jerks suddenly and nearly sends me crashing on her. "Harm, gently!"

"Umm. . .I am not sure where to umm. . .cut?" I know women and if I whack her hair the wrong way, I am sooo toast.

"Anywhere! I was going to get a haircut anyway! I am tired of braids and buns!" I angle the scissor careful not to cut my unmentionables in the process and hack off Mac's brown locks. Sighing happily, she cracks her neck then starts to come to her feet only to forget about that cut on her foot. "OWWW. . .Mother. . ." Any curse word dies on her lips as she realizes Mattie is there. "Oh brother." She smiles at Mattie, hops up on my counter with her good foot and turns on the water to run her injury over the cool water.

"Umm, Harm?" Mattie points down to the hair that is hanging from my zipper. Poor girl looks simply horrified.

I glance down as well and feel my face burn a bright red. "Mats, I bough groceries, can you start to bring them in while I patch Mac up?" Quickly, she sprints out of the apartment and I go over to Mac who looks rather amused. "Sorry about all of that." I chuckle slightly at the funny look of her hair, it's all over the place. "Guess I'll have to take you two to one of those girly spas?"

Mac shakes her head, giggling slightly. "That would be nice, yes." Gently grabbing her foot, I take a good look at the cut, it's not too bad, thankfully it doesn't need stitches, just some TLC. I take out a first aid kit I have in the kitchen and work on patching my Marine up. When I am done, I place a little kiss on her foot and grin. "Thank you, Harm."

I help Mac off of the counter, only to trap her between it and me. "You didn't kiss me when I came in." I say, waggling my eyebrows suggestively. She remedies that, wordlessly planting a sweet, sweet kiss on my lips.

The kiss, as all of our other ones, starts to take a life of its own, only to get cut off by the sound of someone clearing their throat. Turning, I find Mattie standing there with a couple of packages in her arms and a silly grin plastered all over her fact. "You're together!" She all but bounds into the apartment, tosses the packages on the island and props up on a barstool. Mattie rests her head in her hands and that grin goes up in wattage. "Oh, by all means, continue." You can literally see the little hearts in her eyes.

Mac gives me a quick kiss then hobbles around the island to Mattie a hug. "So you approve of me dating your old man?"

"Oh yea. . .I think you two are cute together." They both turn to look at me and I already know I am over my head this weekend. Excusing myself, I head off to my bedroom to get changed, there was no way I was planning on bring up the rest of the groceries with Mac's hair flapping out of my zipper.

Ten minutes later, we're going through the bags, putting things in place when Mattie reaches the one with Mac's. .._things._ "Mac, did you ask Harm to do shopping for you?"

Mac turns on her good foot and raises her eyebrow characteristically. "Yeaaa… whyyy . . Oh!" Giggling, she turns to me. "You forgot that little note I left you, did you?" She's too good sometimes.

"Yes."

Grinning, she takes me by the hand and starts to drag me away from the kitchen. "Let's go return the ones I don't need, with the difference we can get some more goodies."

I stop Mac and stare at her. "MORE GOODIES! Mac, I already got you guys the popcorn, the Ben and Jerry's, what more do you want?"

"You forgot the Cornflakes which go GREAT with ice cream." Mattie says, then opens up the fridge and gasps, "There is NO soda and Mac's going to need chocolate." Mac agrees with a nod. Oh yea, these two, I knew they would get on like wildfire.

Sighing, I head towards my bedroom to grab my wallet. "Oh, alright and while we're at it, let's go pick up a pizza. . or two."

"Now your talking!" Both of them say at the same time, then giggle. I know I am in trouble this weekend. Though, hopefully, with Mac's new injury we won't have to move from the apartment, I mean they can watch flicks all day long, right? Nope, I know I promised to take Mattie bowling and we'll have to have Mac's hair tended to. As I stare at my two girls, I find it comforting that she and Mac are getting along. All in all, I have to say, I am a very lucky man.


	20. Helga, Humberto and Sven

This is part is amusing. I tend to like Mac's descriptions of things. Heheh. Sven and Helga are a MAJOR inside joke which, I don't even remember how it started, but a friend of mine and I always talk about getting a massage by Sven the Sexy Swede.

Lily's, the Salon/Spa was made up as well. Why Lily's? Two reasons, Lillie (diff spelling, but you get the idea) is the name of one of my fav vampire characters "Lillie Langtry" from Kindred: The Embraced. In the show she had a cool, high classed night club called "The Haven" and her lover would call it "Lillie's Haven" always thought it would be a cool name for something. Second reason, it's the name of an instrumental track which I used to play on guitar all the time called "Lily Was Here" – It's that track where a saxophone and a guitar mimic eachother.

Anyway… so, yea. Not sure what's coming after this part, they might end up in the supply room closet again, by mistake. ;) You know the General would LOVE that. ;)

Enjoy!

Jackie

Thanks to: e-dog, Macaroon, BeachChick, Dessler, dansingwolf, Maria, blueangel, Vrbinka, BiteBeccy, SarahRabb, my.evian, anna, Jaggie107, snugglebug, Manda, Lisa, cbw, Xblue, froggy, aserene, crazybum, VrbinkaCZE, sally, trooper, starryeyes, Martini, NavyBabe, jaggurl, Nix, joanoa, jagdreamer, Kinga, JAGChic, Jagfan 724, littlemaccyd, ninjaturtle, blueangel, Kinga, JK, zoomie, myevian, CathyF, CBW, jagdreamer, joanoa, alix33, arian, Lurkz, LiseGirardi, Beach chickJASSNL, Tracy, Lisa, roz, Peggy, Elizabeth Ayers, Disaster Child, trooper, LtCmdrFlygirl, Roz, Peggy, KJFlygirl, Roxie, ltcolonelnijgagrl, hellen, Jill, Kyizi, Broesel, blueangel, Rocket Rain, and mizukimar for the feedback :)

Part 20 – Helga, Humberto and Sven

It's amusing what men will do in order to appease their significant others. As I lay here, getting a shiatsu massage by my sexy Swedish masseuse, Sven, I can hear Harm groaning over by the table next to me. Mattie, who is laying on the table on the other side, is muffling her chuckles against the vinyl material on the table. "Ow!" I hear Harm yelp, followed by a muffled curse and his attempt at a joke. "I think you popped my kidney there, ma'am." Course, you know the only reason why he is here with us is because he took one look at Sven and Harm's little green monster reared it's ugly head.

One hour earlier we stepped into Lilly's, a one stop shop that is both a hair salon and spa, which had opened up just a few weeks prior. I normally don't do this often, pampering _is_ a costly affair, but, having Mattie around, I figured it would be a good time to bond. We arrived at Lilly's and were soon whisked off towards the hair salon, apparently, the full day treatment starts with getting your locks cut and then they finish off the end of the day back at the salon for the styling. "You know, it's not that bad, Mac." Harm said, playfully slapping down the front of my USMC baseball cap. Him and Mattie chuckled conspiringly exchanging these looks of amusement. Uh huh, just swell. I tried, _several_ times to get rid of him, but he just decided to stick around and add more to my embarrassment.

"Uh, yea it is."

"Mees MahKhenzee." I glanced up from where we were sitting and spot, what had to be, the most flamboyant man I'd ever seen in my life. He was wearing a barrette on his head and was dressed as if he just got off the plane and had come from Miami during one of their Latin music extravaganzas. The shirt he was wearing seemed as if someone had raided Ricky Ricardo's closet. Some of his chest hair poked through the opened shirt where this rather large, Cuban flag charm lay dangling from its gold chain. The pants, were parachute ones, similar to the once MC Hammer used to dawn. To compliment the ensemble, he was also wearing pink ballerina shoes. To say I was horrified was an understatement. _THIS_ was going to work on my hair! "Halo, mhy name ees Humberto." He took my hand and kissed the back of it, then placed a hand around my waist and whisked me off towards one of those haircutting chairs. You know? The types that has that pneumatic pump thingy that makes you feel like, at any moment, they are going to pump that up too hard and send you flying?

I turned back slightly to find both Harm and Mattie with a pair of confused expressions on their faces. You'd figured one of them would have rescued me? So much for having a big, strong man! "Ohkay, when joo made dee appointmen dis morning joo sead joo had an assident?" His accent wasn't the easiest thing in the world to work with. I am normally good with accents but Humberto, who pronounced his name in English with a heavy 'H' and rolling 'R's, was leaving me baffled. "Jes? Ees dis troo?"

"Um." I know I probably looked like a fish when it's out of water and its mouth starts to do that gaping thing. "Yea, I guess." Not one second later, he tosses off the cap, flinging it across the room like a Frisbee. I glanced at my reflection in the mirror and cringe. Damn Harm and his zipper. My hair was even at all, in any place, save for my bangs. I am not sure if Harm missed, or if THAT much of my hair was caught, but it looked as if my hair had been caught in a paper shredder.

"Mmmm." Keeping an eye on Humberto, I try, as much as possible, to relax. I kept telling myself that if he was working at a place like this, he had to be good right? "Ohkay! I tink I got it!" Okay, well, that I did understand. With a satisfied grin, Humberto whipped out this blade, not scissors. Right around that time, my six was half out of the chair. "Don't werry Mees Mahkensee! Joo lav it!" And before I had a chance to bolt, Tamara, Humberto's assistant starts to "prepare" me.

During the whole "preparation" process, which was basically Tamara putting that gown thingy on, mixing something for highlights and clipping up chunks of what was left of my hair, I kept an eye on Harm through the mirrors. From my vantage point, I knew he really couldn't see me. I was a cute sight, from time to time, he would try to read one of the magazines and peer over the top to see what was going on with me. Often, like when Tamara was preparing me, he would get this silly, cute expression between horror and interest. Eventually, he did spot me looking at him and just smiled brightly, something that calmed me immensely.

I wasn't allowed to see Humberto's creation and though that worried me, I reveled in the fact that I outranked most of the people at JAG ops and could, if needed, order them not to let me know how much my hair sucked. Humberto tried to explain his technique, which was, basically, hacking off pieces of hair with a blade, similar to the ones used at barber shops.

Once the chopping and coloring of my hair was done, Chuck, the receptionist, came over to introduce me to Sven, the sexy Swede that was to do my massaging for an hour. The moment the Swede came up to greet me, I feel this tall thing at my side. It was Harm. "Mac, Chuck said he was ready for you and Mattie now." Harm had tried to coax Mattie into getting a hair make over, but she, politely declined. Mattie has beautiful hair and if I had her locks, I'd be heading for the hills myself!

Sven ogled me respectively then turned to Harm. "Ah, two beautiful women, must be my lucky day." He said in a voice that I could only describe as – sexy. Accents have always been a turn on for me, which is amusing, other than Mic, I've never dated a guy with a foreign accent. Now, yes, I do have Harm and he is the epitome of what is sexy, but a girl _can_ look, can't she?

Harm glared at Sven while Mattie was just as smitten as a teen could be, she giggled slightly and I could already imagine Harm loading up his service weapon to keep the boys away. "Well, hey there, pal. . .Do you have room for one more?"

My jaw hit the floor the moment I heard Harm ask that. And Sven, being as accommodating as possible, said that there was a large room, reserved for larger groups of people who came in to pamper together. It was available and we'd be allowed to use it. "Just follow me, you'll need to get changed." He led us to this beautiful locker room. The walls were all white, there was this teak bench and the lockers all had this removable plate with our names on them. Harm was escorted, by Sven, to the gentleman's section. I later found out it wasn't as swanky as ours. Mattie and I both slipped into separate changing rooms, each coming out with shiatsu sandals and this big, fluffy, off-white robe. Which, I swear, if it's for sale, it's coming with me, sandals too!

The moment we meet Harm outside of the changing rooms, I find that any sexy notions I had about Sven fly out the window. There's nothing more sexy than a man standing in just a bathrobe and Harm. . .can we say grrrrrr? No doubt, he probably has those pristine, white boxers underneath, but still. The man is a fine specimen of the male race.

Sven, then led us to the massage room, one with large, potted plants, smooth music and a section in a corner that had all sorts of fruits, breads, cheeses, wines, coffees and fruit juices. The thought to never leave there again did pass through my mind several times. We were told to 'make ourselves at home' and we did just that, munching on some of the food until Sven's partner, Helga came to get us started on the massages. Now, when I hear the word Helga, I normally envision a rather large woman, of German decent, with a mean ass temper. This Helga, doesn't fit that bill at all. Nope, she is a rail thin, blond haired, blue eyed Goddess who was probably put on Earth to be a temptation for men.

Now it was my turn for the ugly green monster to come out. Helga, of course, is all swooning over Harm's charms. And I swear to God, the man is just plane old oblivious to women throwing themselves at him. "You can call me Harm." I heard him tell the woman, who was calling him 'Mr. Rabb.'

It was stupid. Petty even, but, hey, I am only human. "You can call me, Mac." I told Sven and two seconds later Harm and I are in a staring match.

Though we'd like to think that teens are sometimes oblivious, Mattie is anything but. "You two, cut it out. . .you're _together_, remember? Which means, look but don't touch." At mine and Harm's look of shock, she chuckled and went off to be massaged by Sven.

We sat in chairs by the food, both of us keeping an eye on Sven and Mattie as they went through her treatment. I could tell Harm wasn't happy about a guy placing a hand on _his_ daughter, but Sven did a good job of keeping it professional. It might have been the dirty looks we shot him. Hehehe.

"Ok, Harm. . .your turn and Sven will start on Mac as soon as he is done." She told him how to lay down on the bed, then did this quick movement to place a towel over his six.

Harm nearly came off of the table. "What the hell!" Modestly, he tugged the towel up which, in the end, just ended up showing some of those boxers he was wearing. "Careful there."

She chuckled, readjusted the towel and playfully patted him on the back. "Easy there. . . Just relax, you are going to love this."

That leads us to the present. "Helga, can you. . .OW!" That rail thin thing over there is killing Harm. Well, not killing him, but I've massaged him enough to know about the knots in his back. They are hell to get out and Helga is intent on cranking all of those puppies out today. "Oooh. . .yea. . . RIGHT THERE." And, apparently, she IS good.

After the massage treatments, Mattie, Harm and I get changed into these big fluffy towels and escorted into the eucalyptus room. This place is Heaven and if Mattie weren't around, I could see Harm and I getting a bit frisky. It's basically a steam room, but the vapors that come out are not all that steamy, instead, it's eucalyptus which, I hear, is fabulous for the skin. "This is great! Thanks guys!" I hear Mattie say with a soothed, happy voice. Harm and I look at each other and grin.

Through the rest of the day, we did several other treatments, reflexology, facials, mud wraps and another massage before I was taken back to Humberto. "Jes! Joo look berry whell!" Taking off the towel that was wrapped around my head – one that I tried to remove, but, I swear, they must have super glued on – he lets, what's left of my hair, drop down. All of this he does without letting me face the mirror, which starts to make me a tad bit nervous again. With his trusty hairdryer and brush, Humberto fluffs, tucks, teases and rolls. Five minutes later, I am spun around to face the mirror. I have to admit, the man did an excellent job. My hair is much, much shorter than it was, then again, Harm did have to cut out a huge chunk of it. But, it's bouncy, cute and, best of all, will work with my cover. It's now about jaw length all the way around and has these subtle, lighter brown areas that give it a really pretty color.

"Wow, thank you Humberto."

I hop off of the chair and fish through my jeans for his tip. As I am giving him the money, he leans in and grins. "See, you have to learn to trust. . . Not everything is as it appears." His Cuban accent is suddenly gone and he winks at me as he lets me on my way. I chuckle slightly and thank him again.

"You ready, Marine?" Harm says, pulling me and Mattie close to him as he hugs what, he know calls, his 'girls.'

I nod and head out, happily with my boyfriend and his daughter. I catch a few guys on the street admiring me and Harm just pulls me closer. I know I should be annoyed at him openly staking his claim, but, I have to admit, it's nice to have someone like him around. It makes life that much more fun.


	21. The Supply Room Again

See! They're back in the supply room. ;) Well closet, becase it's really a tiny place. ;)  
Enjoy!  
Jackie

Part 21 – The Supply Room Again

It's late in the day, the only person left in the office is. .. well, me. Mac's been gone for about ten minutes and will, no doubt, get to her apartment and slip into a nice warm bubble bath. I sigh, the idea of her surrounded in bubbles making smirk. She's so sexy. Ah, back to work Rabb. I search around my desk for a pen, but find none. "What the hell?" Yanking open my drawers I don't find any there, nor inside my briefcase. Ugh! This means I need to take an obligatory trip to the damned supply room.

Well, on the way back I'll slip into the kitchen and grab some, much need, COFFEE! I head down the halls considering, as I always do, if some ghost haunts our offices. This place is just eerie with no one around. I make it to the supply room and open it up only to have the life scared out of me. "Took you long enough!"

Mac grabs me by the shirt and shoves me into the closet, closing the door behind us. "Jesus, Mac! Give a guy a heart attack why dontcha!"

She chuckles and I feel her hands on my chest, tracing through the fabric of my clothing. Reaching up she loosens my tie. "You're too overdressed for this time of the evening, Commander."

I want to relax and let her do whatever she's trying to do, but, the fact that we were LOCKED in here once before starts to worry me. "Mac, hate to burst your bubble but. . HOW ARE WE GOING TO GET OUT?"

I feel her move slightly, reaching behind her to open up the door. "See it. . .opens. . .if you . .. just." But, it didn't open, at all. "Shit!" She tries again, but seeing as, from her vantage, she couldn't reach it. I try myself and the stupid thing won't budge. Talk about DÉJÀ VU!

DAMNIT! "You just HAD to get me in the supply closet. You just HAD to lock us in didn't you?" I know she doesn't deserve a berating, but, damnit, there is NO ONE here. Which means, if we don't make it out, we'll be stuck here until someone rescues us in the morning!

Mac just huffs. "Well you got us stuck in here LAST time. . .Remember? You tugged me in because 'someone was coming'?"

Okay, so I was trying to mess with her and, in the end I got US stuck in this stupid little closet. But, this is different, to begin with, if the General finds us, we're soooo dead. He isn't going to let us get away with this TWICE! "Maaaac, this isn't good!"

"No, duh!" I feel her shifting around and I have to say, it's hell on my control. I know she's not doing it on purpose, brushing up against me like that. Right? She couldn't be doing that on purpose. Involuntarily I groan and start to think about anything gross to stop my. . uh. . .little sailor – as Mac likes to call it – from taking a stand. She shifts again and lets out this wispy sigh.

"MAC! Will you STOP That!" I really didn't mean to scream out but, JESUS!

"You don't have a broom up your six!" I raise an eyebrow and try not to laugh. Well, unsuccessfully try not to laugh. Reaching around I find that she really does have a broom up against her six. I pull it away and manage to lean it up against the door. "Thank you!"

She shifts some more and I groan again. Mac's definitely doing this on purpose. I go back to thinking icky thoughts, like the General in drag. Eww, yea, that would do it. Actually. . .OH GOD! Okay, now she's undoing her jacket. Okay, I mean, yea, it's getting HOT in here, but. . .her chest bumps into mine. . ARGH! "MAAAC! JUST STOP MOVING, DAMNIT!"

She does stop, thank God. Mac's hands and body move as far away from me as possible. With a sigh, I then feel her resting heavily against me. Did she just pass out or fall asleep or something? "I. .uh. . .M-mac?"

"Yea?" She says very softly and I can barely feel her breathe.

"Are you okay?"

She sighs again. "Yea, just trying not to move. . .you told me not to move."

"Well, I didn't mean for you to stop breathing, Marine. . .Thing is your umm. . .bumping and grinding over there was. . .well it was making my little sailor a happy little sailor."

Mac chuckles. "Am I really that much hell on your control?"

I swear, she sounds pleased. "You have no idea. . ." I sigh, then it occurs to me. "Apparently I am not hell on yours. . .you tend not to have problems controlling yourself."

"Yea, that is why I finagled you into a supply closet with the intentions of making out with you?" She snorts. "I think the only time you aren't hell on my control is when we are _just_ partners."

"I got news for you, MacKenzie, I don't think you and I have _ever_ been _just partners_." I grin, and slowly run my hands down her sides to her hips. You have to admire the Marines, they have got the most flattering outfits for women, despite all that drab green. Okay, I am smitten, hopelessly smitten, in love. . . I really can't help what my hands are doing. Neither can I help my lips that have managed to fuse themselves to hers.

We kiss slowly, neither of us wanting for this to go too far. We are at JAG after all. I feel, more than see, that she did manage to unbutton her jacket. Reaching up I pull off her tie and unbutton the top of her blouse. I have this thing with Mac's neck. Well, I have one, mainly because of the little sounds she makes when I kiss her there. Her hands are not idle either, she's managed to open up a few of the buttons at the bottom of my blouse and has slipped her hand through there and poked under my undershirt. I feel my breath hitch slightly when her hand slips over my abs and towards my back. "You're soooo damned sexy." She rasps between kisses.

Grinning, though I know she can't see it, I turn us around in the cramped space. Well, more like squeeze us around. Turning around in this room comprises of me sliding to one side so she could press herself to the other side, so she can wind up where I was and me with my back to the door. We manage it though, through chuckles, snorts and a few groans. "If either of us gained a pound, I don't think we would have made that daring little maneuver." She laughs, as her hands find their way back against my skin.

I move back, leaning against the door and tug Mac to me, raising one of her legs up towards my hip. "Now THAT was a daring maneuver." The second I'm about to kiss her again, I feel myself falling backwards. "Ooof!" The wind has been knocked out of me and I happened to think my senses have been too as I feel my head hit the floor. I can literally see stars, birdies and I think a bell or two is ringing.

"AHEM!" I hear someone, male, clearing their throat and through the haze and daze, I see a pair of nicely polished shoes, green pants, and, as my gaze moves upwards, I spot some khaki with two stars on the lapels. It's Creswell.

"OH SHIT!" I say, out loud and I see that General Creswell's scowl just gets worse. Oh shit indeed.

I try to push Mac off of me, but, for some reason, she is not moving. "Maac, COLONEL. . .Get. . up." I manage to say as I try to get my equilibrium and breath back at the same time. When I do manage to get my head up, I find her still half sprawled on me with her right hand wrapped around her left wrist. "Mac?"

At this point, it occurs to me that the General hasn't ripped us a new one, yea, well. . . two seconds later. "WHAT IN THE HELL ARE YOU TWO DOING? . . .You know, I don't have a problem with the two of you going out. Hell, Commander, the Colonel could probably calm some of your wild streak, but do you two have to make out at the office?"

"SIR! This is NOT a good time!" Mac yells at him and I feel the blood rush out of my cheeks. Something is really wrong if she just sounded off on our CO. She rolls off of me and lays on the floor still holding her wrist. As she tries to get up, I hear her gasp in pain. "Damnit! I think something is wrong."

The General is at her side in a moment, stepping over me as he checks her wrist and right ankle. He glances back at me and then at Mac. We're in for it. . .man are we in for it. But, to my surprise he starts to chuckle. "Can't you two EVER NOT get into trouble?" Sighing, he helps me up then points at Mac. "Commander, get the Colonel to the hospital, I think she might have broken her wrist and ankle."

I wince. "What? How?" I stare at Mac. Shouldn't I be the one with things broken? I mean, not that Mac is heavy, but when you have 120 lbs falling on you as you crash to the floor, it's no picnic.

Mac is trying to put a brave face in front of Creswell, but I can see a pout that she is trying to hide. "When you stumbled back, I tried to stop you from falling, in the process I bent my ankle. Then I tried to brace myself so I wouldn't land on you and. . ." She squeezes her wrist a bit and I frown. Then, realizing our CO was still there, she comes to attention, as much as one can while sitting on the ground. "Sir, please forgive us for disrespecting you and our offices especially considering that you have been nothing but understanding of the Commander's and my circumstance and. . ."

"Oh, hell Colonel, Mac. . .knock it off. . .You think you two are the only officers to have done this while at work?"

"Well, no but. . ."

Creswell sighs, "You two are the same rank, though you picked the wrong place to. . I'm not going to file charges. . .However, there will be some _additional _duties for the two of you for the rest of the week." Grinning, he helps me get Mac to one of her feet. "Harm, I'll help you take her down the steps since the elevator is out." And he does, but it takes us about fifteen minutes. I would have just lifted Mac into my arms and taken her down, but, with out luck, I probably would have fallen and broken my six or something. He helps strap her into my SUV, then looks sternly between the two of us. "I don't need to separate the two of you do I?"

"No, sir." We say in unison and he grins again.

"Good!. . .Have a great evening. . . Commander, keep me apprised of the Colonel's injuries as soon as you know something." With that, he's headed off to his own vehicle.

Mac and I share one of our millions of glances and we both bust out laughing. "Well, I think we escaped the Aleutians again."

"Yea, no thanks to you." I glance at her wrist which she is holding and though I am concerned, I just know it gives me a reason to stay at her place until she is better. "You know, you're going to need a strong, handsome sailor to care for you."

Mac nods in agreement. "Yep, know of one?"

"I'm sure I can find one for you. . .He might even be a pilot turned lawyer."

"Oh, those are the best kind." She nods enthusiastically then motions towards the rear. "Now, you mind getting me to a place with doctors and nurses and nice drugs? This. . .hurts like hell."

I back the car up then stick it in park. "You never would have known the way you handled yourself with the General."

"Yea, well, if you don't get me some pain killers soon, squid, there will be no more supply room adventures for you." Hmm, though that might not be a bad thing, seeing as both of our adventures ended up badly, I remind myself that a third time is a charm and quickly speed out of ops and to the nearest hospital.


	22. WhatNots

So, are we still reading this or should I just wrap it up, kill it, stop writng? ;)

Part 22 - What-Nots

I hate crutches. I hate casts. I hate doctors. I hate the General. I hate JAG's supply closet. And, most of all, at the moment, I hate a certain Commander who forgot his damned keys! "If you knock ONE MORE TIME I will beat you over the head with this crutch, you read me, Commander?" I bark out in a tone that, I am sure, would scare the crap out of a drill instructor. As a response I hear a muffled 'Aye aye, ma'am.'

Using this stupid crutch has turned out to be torture. I fractured my left wrist, which means, I can't use a crutch on that arm. And that is fine, because I also fractured my right leg – I got the whole 'balancing' thing down. However, getting up and getting moving is a total bitch. With a huff, I hobble my way over to the door which poses another problem. "Argh! Damnit!"

"You alright in there, Mac?" Harm says from the other side of the door. Why do men love to torture women? How is it that we hardly ever forget keys? I mean, it was on the table with his wallet and car keys.

Sighing, I lean up against the wall, then balance on one foot until I can prop open the thirty one thousand locks on my door which were put there by, you guessed it, the flyboy. A week ago someone broke into the apartment next door and, since then, Harm got a bit panicky. So, he added in a second dead bolt, another chain, set up new locks on both the existing dead bolt and the door handle. Then, he installed that stick that goes on the inside to prevent anyone from slamming the door open. I swear, Fort Knox would be envious. Finally, I pull open the door to find Harm standing there with an armful of groceries. "You didn't forget your keys, did you?" I ask, grinning as he waltzes in and heads towards the kitchen. He chuckles, darts his head out and shakes it. "Jerk!" I head over to the kitchen, resting against the doorjamb as Harm puts all the goodies away. "Ooooh, Oreos." I say with a grin and attempt to snatch the box but Harm's quicker. "Hey!"

"I am upset with you, Colonel." He says, then sticks the box as far away from me as possible.

As carefully as possible, I cross my arms and give him my best stare. "Oh? I don't know why. I've been here _all day_ haven't done a damned thing, thank you." Just watch these pathetic, yet, utterly addicting soaps.

"Uh huh." He takes out some parmesan cheese, heavy whipping cream, broccoli, chicken and some fettuccini. Ooooh, he's going to do Chicken Fettuccini Alfredo with his own, home made, Alfredo sauce. Bless the man! Harm stops and stares at me and by the look he's giving me, it seems he really IS upset. Oh oh. "What was the last thing I told you before I left this morning?"

Moments like this, I swear, I love that I have a pretty good memory. "Hmmm. . . 'I love you, Mac. . .Call you when I get to work.'?" That WAS the last thing he said, right before kissing me in a way that caused me to ignore the slight pain I was in from my injuries. Wistfully, I grin up at him, but he ain't smiling back. "That WAS the last thing you said."

Harm shakes his head. "Before that. . ."

"Okaaaay." I draw out, not really in the mood for 20 questions or whatever else he is getting at. "I am not to sure. . .somewhere between the 'I love you's' and the kiss I umm. . .forgot?" I bat my eyes, trying to sway him from whatever mood he's in. But, not even my dazzling smile seems to be doing a damned thing. What the hell did I do?

Sighing as if the world was resting on his shoulders, Harm leans against the cabinets and fixes me with a glare. "I didn't buy all of the locks and what-nots for the hell of it, Mac. . .I bought it to keep you safe."

"That's what your tiffed about?" I shake my head, the nerve of this man! "Baby, I DID use all the locks and the what-nots."

"Uh, no. . .You didn't use that stick thingy. . .I didn't hear you unlock that."

Well, okay he is right on that, but, then again, "How do you expect me to sick that thing in there? It's difficult enough to just walk around. . .besides, Harm, I'm a MARINE." I know he HATES it when I say that, in fact, he's rolling his eyes right now. But, he hasn't realized yet that I do it to rev him up a little. And, as usual, it's working. Here comes the speech.

"Mac. . .I know you are a kick ass Marine. On a GOOD day you can probably take on Mike Tyson and win, but. . .You're injured." He walks up to me, our bodies close to touching, but he doesn't quite get there. His voice is low and sultry and sweet and it's all I can do not to have my way with him. God, it's so wonderful to be pathetically in love. "You're important to me. . ._very_ important to me. . .and I want to keep you safe."

I shrug and, with my good hand, reach out to grab his hand. "I know." I say, playing with his fingers, then lacing them through his. I keep my head down, watching, slightly mesmerized at how our hands fit so nicely, his strong one hand with my slender one. "But, I am all alone and it _is_ difficult to put on. . .I did manage to lock the rest of the what-nots."

When I look up at him, I try giving him my puppy dog look along with a lick of my lips for good measure. And, that's his undoing. His eyes are watching my lips, keeping a tact on when I darted my tongue out. I sigh slightly, then run my lips together. We haven't done anything, we aren't really touching intimately, are bodies aren't even touching, yet, standing like this, in my kitchen, with my injured wrist and ankle and Harm, still overly dressed in uniform, it's one of the sexiest things ever.

Before I know it, he tugs me to him, fusing his mouth on mine, kissing me with such intensity, I can barely breathe. The force of the movement makes me wince slightly, but I'd happily break every bone in my body if it meant I'd get to kiss him every day of my life. Between kisses, I wonder if we'll always have this intensity for each other. Will we always be this way?

Harm stops kissing me, his eyebrow arching slightly. "Will we always be _what_ way?" Damn, I hadn't realized I said that out loud.

Shyly, I place my good hand on his chest, the other on the kitchen counter. Damned cast is HEAVY. "Like this. . .you know? Passionate, sensuous, tantalizing. . .rapturous."

He's breathing shallow. His eyes are all smoke and desire. It actually makes me quiver when I hear him say, "God, say that again."

"I Mmnnn. . ." Before I have a chance to say anything else, we're kissing again. Somehow, I think we'll have desert before dinner. Harm's definitely going to have to do all the work, though, not that I think he minds. "Oooh, you're good." I rasp out as I feel his hand come in contact with my bare skin. How the hell does he do that without me noticing?

I can feel him either grinning or smiling against my lips as his fingers work on undoing the buttons of my shirt. His hands slide upwards, under the shirt and he starts to pull it off of my shoulders. It falls down to the floor in a pool then Harm's fingers are trying to unhook my bra. "Ahem."

Funny, how such a silly interjection can TOTALLY ruin a moment. Harm steps up, pulling me tightly against his body. His arms come around me, shielding my half-naked body from whomever has stumbled in. "What the hell do you want Lieutenant?"

Ah, that can only be one person. I look up at Harm, who is holding me even closer now. There's this scowl on his face. Jesus, I think he might just make good on the 'killing Lt. Sleaze' promise. "I uh. . .came to umm wish the. . .the Colonel. . .What I mean was. . .I wanted to. . . wish her a get well soon."

Wow, the scowl must be working if Vukovic's stammering is an indication. "Lieutenant, we'll be right out, please head over to the living room." I say, trying to seem professional without being all bitchy with him. When he leaves, Harm squats down, picks up my shirt and helps me slip it back on. "So much for all of the door locks, huh?" I chuckle.

He's doing up my buttons quickly. "I guess I should return them, they aren't Lt. Sleaze proof." He whispers then we chuckle again.

"Uh, hello! I can do that THANK YOU." I really don't mind him helping, at all, but when it comes to getting around, I can do that myself. Laughing, I yank the crutch from him, almost falling face first as the action made me lose my balance. Of course, his arms are there, preventing me from falling. I sigh and find Harm with this wicked little grin. "One word and I'm telling every one at work about how much of a pansy you were when you got the tattoo, flyboy."

With a wink, I head off to the living room. Vukovic is standing by the fireplace, admiring the photos. There's the photo of Harm and I in Afghanistan, a photo of the Roberts' clan, one of Chloe and Jingo, one of me and Uncle Matt, taken when I was 12 and another of Harm and I taken at a restaurant we went to a few weeks ago. The last one is a really sweet picture. We were caught up in our own little world, hanging by the moment, and the restaurant photographer gave it to us free of charge. The next day we made copies, Harm kept the original and had a frame made for my copy. I treasure it so much. "Ah, very sorry to hear about the accident ma'am." Vic looks me up and down, wincing as he takes in the sight of the casts.

I am slightly curious as to what the General and Harm told people. Somehow I don't think 'they were making out in the supply closet' came up in any type of conversation. "It's not too bad. . .casts come off in about four weeks. . .minor fractures."

"The General told us you slipped and fell in the stairwell?" No, but it was close to the stairwell.

I nodded. "Yep. . .heels must have slipped from under me." Yea, because I've only been wearing them for most of my adult life. I could probably do PT in heals if required to do so. "They aren't very comfortable."

"I wouldn't know." Harm and Vic say at the same time and then the both of them stare at each other all male, testosteroneish and territorial. I roll my eyes, here we go.

Harm steps next to me, then helps me into the large chair I have, then sits on the sofa, right smack in the middle, making sure Vic has no where to sit but across from me on the other chair. "Difficult case today, wasn't it Vic?"

I think that was the first time he's ever called him Vic. "I think it pretty much sucked. .. uh, sir." He turns to me, adds a dazzling smile and says, "The Commander and I went toe to toe, I gave him a good run, but he still came out on top. . .Next time, I suppose."

Well, he'll probably win A FEW against Harm, but more than that, doubtful. "The Commander is a good opponent." I turn to Harm and our eyes lock in that silent conversation only we seem to have.

Vic apparently senses he's just become the third wheel and ten seconds later I hear him groan. "Well, I guess I'd better be going. . .Get well soon, Ma'am. . .See you tomorrow, sir." He takes Harm's hand and they go through this power struggle as to who has the stronger grip. Men, ugh!

The Lieutenant isn't more than three feet away from the door when Harm closes it and starts to lock every single dead bolt, chain and yes, even that stick thingy. I raise an eyebrow at him in question. "Eh, I suddenly feel like Rapunzle."

"Hey, as long as I am the prince that comes to rescue you, you can whichever fairy tail maiden you like." Harm leans against the door giving me that 'I told you so' look and I can't help but chuckle. "You laugh, but you see what happens if you don't have the proper security measures?"

"Oh, C'mon Harm! It's not like I LEAVE the door wide open for people to just waltz right in. . .Until now that is." I grin indignantly at him and Harm starts to chuckle. "Besides it was only Vic."

Harm shakes his head, comes over to me and helps me to my feet. "Let's get you fed, jarhead, then you can hear all about me beating the pants off of Lt. Sleaze."

"Harmon Rabb, you sure have the _loveliest_ pillow talk." With a grin, I pat him on the shoulder, then head towards the kitchen. "By the way, after dinner, I think we should finish what we started, I don't like being left all hot and bothered." By the way Harm bolted through the living room and rushed off towards the kitchen, it's obvious he doesn't like being hot and bothered any more than I do.


	23. Warm And Fuzzy Feelings

Hey gang! Yep, another trip into Harm and Mac's life. I love these, I really do. They are funny and goofy. I hope you like this part, I've deleted and re-written it about three times.

Thanks for all of the feedback on this one. :) It's been fun to write. I might have another chapter for you guys next week, if not, when I come back!

Jackie

Part 23 – Warm And Fuzzy Feelings

"Wait up!" Ugh, I can't run anymore, my body is just blah today. I know why too, I am coming down with a cold, my body is about to be invaded by germs. Actually, it probably is already invaded and death will soon be eminent. With a sigh, I stop, bending over to place my hands on my knees in order to find some air to breathe. Running today was just NOT a good idea, but as I took one look at Mac in her running attire, I couldn't restrain myself. What a moron I was!

I am huffing and puffing, thoughts of passing out are racing through my mind. It's hot, sticky, disgusting and raining. "ACK! THANK YOU!" Some very nice Samaritan on a bicycle has just skidded to a stop in order to turn down a bike path and has spritz me with icky, muddy water from head to toe. This day just CAN'T get any worse.

I feel her hand on my back, patting me slightly as she trots in place next to me, trying to keep her heart rhythm from dropping. "You alright there, flyboy?" Ugh, it CAN get worse, Mac's in a disgustingly, chipper mood. I guess I would be too given the circumstances. She's had her casts off for several weeks and went through some tough therapy. Now, it appears that she is back and better than ever.

As I stand, still trying to catch my breath, memories flash of her first few therapies. I swear, I thought she'd never make it out alive. Her first attempt at getting her broken bones working properly was more like an exorcism. Mac used every friggin' curse word in the books and even some in Farsi as her limbs were pulled and stretched to different angles. It was kind of amusing; especially since she told me it would be 'no sweat.' Uh huh, well, there was A LOT of sweat involved and words I've only heard aboard a ship when us boys in our boys club trade our tawdry tales.

Now, the second therapy session had me, literally, running out of the place. Mac's first therapist wasn't available so another therapist named Patty, a woman that looked like a deranged Nurse Barbie doll, stood in. The woman thought that I had caused the injury to Mac; apparently they'd had several domestic dispute cases. To say that she didn't like me was an understatement. Every time I would encourage Mac, Attila the Therapist would fix me with a death glare not unlike my Marine's.

Seeing that I wasn't quite helping Mac, (Attila the Therapist wanted me to pull her leg one way and I was afraid I'd hurt her, so I just didn't do anything), she tossed me out of the room leaving me standing outside while another round of exorcism began. This time, not only was Mac screaming, but Patty was too, screaming back at her. Embarrassed I sat outside in one of the guest chairs, those waiting giving me odd glances as I tried to chuckle it off. "Ah, my girlfriend . . .she's in a lot of pain." Around the third bout with Patty, I call one of the doctors over, voicing my concerns over Attila's methods only to find out that Patty was, 'the best' they had. God, I didn't even want to think about the worst.

I was turning bright red hearing the words that Mac and Patty yelled at each other. I mean, not for nothing, I curse and I know Mac does too, but the words 'overly colorful' come to mind. It sounded like to women in a catfight over a man, you know what I mean. The only thing missing was the loud, annoying screeches. Hoping that a cup of coffee could calm MY nerves (I was waiting for Mac to come out and kill me suddenly for leaving her alone.), I head off in search of the cafeteria.

This was, perhaps, the dumbest move I made. In my return, I expected to find them at it again, but no, instead, I heard LAUGHTER. Yep, Patty and Mac were LAUGHING. So, I snuck my head inside, taking a look around to see Mac still laying on the therapy table and Patty rubbing her down with some odd smelling liquid. I didn't ask what was so funny, I figured, SOME things, had to be kept a mystery. As I walked out with Mac, Patty DID apologize for kicking me out, however, she figured that for Mac to progress, I needed to stay outside because I was a 'distraction.' Well, that I couldn't deny.

"You know, at the moment I kind of wish you still had your casts on." Wrong thing to say, I know, but I am grumpy and in the mood to let everyone know it.

Mac slaps me on the shoulder; the rainwater that has collected on my shirt splatters slightly. "Not funny, flyboy. . .You have NO idea what it's like to go through physical therapy."

Actually, I do. With a sigh, I stand up and fix Mac with a glare. "You aren't the only one that went through pain, Mac. . .During the ramp strike, I didn't have time to eject properly, so I hit the deck extremely hard and broke both my legs. . . I was in traction FOREVER and let's not forget the therapy after I crashed in the Atlantic." Looking up, I see those big, expressive, brown eyes of hers cloud over slightly. She looks like she's about to cry.

"You didn't have to snap at me, Harm. . .I forgot about your knee, if you remember, I was on the LHA when you went through therapy. . . and I didn't know about your ramp strike." She walks off slightly, coming to rest against a tree as I hear her mumble. "You never tell me about your past."

I guess she is right about that. There are aspects of my past that I lock away from myself and others. It's not a good thing, especially if I want this thing between us to grow. But, I've learned by experience that few of the women I've been involved with want to know THAT much about my life. "Mac, I don't want you mad at me."

"I'm not MAD at you, Harm. . .but you've been in a bad mood all day." She raises a brow, kicks off from the tree and comes to my side. There's a new expression on her face as if she figured something know no one else knew. Raising her hand up, she presses the back of it to my forehead. ARGH! Why does everyone automatically think that the back of their hands are substitutes for thermometers? "Harm, you're hot."

"So are you." I say with a half grin, which is completely obliterated by a very loud sneeze. "Oh no, I'm sick."

"Yea, no shit. . .Damnit, why didn't you TELL me you felt bad this morning?" You know, I should have. In fact, I was going to, but it's normal for Mac to pull me out of bed for a morning run on Saturday's, so nothing seemed out of the ordinary except for my regular hatred for mornings. Thing is, she really, really, really looks hot in this ribbed, sleeveless running shirt and mid-thigh high running shorts. I couldn't help myself. I had to follow. One of her arms wraps around my waist as she helps me stand. "C'mon, lets get you home."

"I guess it doesn't help that we didn't bring our cars, huh?" I joke slightly but Mac is having nothing of it. No, it looks like she's about to stick her own therapy into me, probably right over the base of my skull.

Running, it would take us about 5 minutes to get to the park from Mac's apartment. Walking and with me puking my lungs out, try 40 minutes. That fever I had, got worse, a lot worse. We stand by one of the bushes outside of her apartment building. Actually, Mac stands, I double over and hurl. "Ugh. . .Make it stop."

I feel her hand running soothing circles on my back. It feels so nice that had it not been because it is still pouring out, I would have happy collapsed right here, letting Mac do her magic on me. "We need to get you upstairs, in a hot shower with some hot tea and in my bed." She rambles off, "And I don't want to HEAR any innuendoes, Harm. . . I am REALLY upset with you."

"I'm sorry, Mac, but I really didn't feel THIS bad. . .else." Another wave of nausea hits and, thankfully I am able to stop before it kills me.

It takes another 5 minutes before I am able to walk with Mac up into the building, ride in the elevator and then head towards her apartment. Once inside, she begins stripping me. My shirt, shorts, shoes, socks and briefs are all a wet pile on the floor and I stand, completely naked in her living room. Mac takes off her own clothes, piling them along with mine and, also naked, leads me through the apartment.

We, well, I, stumble into the bathroom and Mac helps me into the tub, running the shower rather hot. "Mac! Jesus!"

"Harm, you're frozen, you need to get warm before you get worse than you are." She takes the soap and works on lathering me up. I can't help but grin.

My body, feeling a lot like lead, involuntarily leans itself against the bathroom wall. Mac's hands on me making this very nice on my already aching muscles. "Mmmm. . .right there." I say, as she massages my scalp with some orange smelling shampoo. Leaning against the wall, lathered in soap, I start to nod off, until I crack an eye open to find Mac lathering herself up. "Oooh."

Quickly, she washes the soap all off of her even the shampoo that she's managed to stick in her hair as well. Then, she moves the shower head so that the water hits me. "Harm, I know you don't feel well, but a little HELP would be wonderful." She says, her hands running at a frantic pace over my body as she tries to take the soap off. I try to help her, but finding that my hands aren't cooperating, I let her finish. "Okay, sailor, all done. . .Let's get you dried off and into something warm."

A few minutes later, I am lying in her bed, wearing a sweatshirt and pants, shivering like there is no tomorrow. "Ugh, I feel awful." I say in my best 'death is taking over me' voice, which is the only thing I could muster at the moment.

With a sympathetic smile, she takes the thermometer from my mouth and whistles. "If we can't lower this down, sailor, I'm afraid we're heading to Bethesda."

"Nooooooo!" I grumble out, my fear of doctors becoming even more so evident. "You love me, you wouldn't do that to me right?" I bat my eyes at her, suddenly feeling overly feminine.

Mac sits on the edge of the bed and takes one of my hands. "It's because I love you that I would take you there, Harm. . ." Thankfully, the puking has stopped. I hear a whistling through the apartment; no doubt the water for the tea is ready. She leans in and kisses my forehead. "I'm going to get you tea and some saltine crackers, we'll see if you can hold that down, okay?"

I glance up at her with my best puppy dog look and nod. "Thank you."

Smiling, she runs a soothing hand over my forehead then kisses my lips. "Hey, I owe you since you did such a good job taking care of me. . .I got warm and fuzzy feelings every time you stayed by my side." Mac kisses me one more time, and then heads off. Though I feel like crap, I understand Mac's warm and fuzzy feelings. I am feeling them too and no, it's not just the cooties. Suddenly, getting sick and feeling awful aren't so bad, especially when someone you love is there to take care of you.


	24. Sweet And Sticky Stuff

I had the full intention to post this BEFORE leaving. It didn't happen, not sure why. :P Buuut. . .Here's part 24 ;) Yes, I realize the title of this chapter is going to get all of you gutter folk salivating. ;)

Enjoy!

Jackie

PS: If you like doughnuts and have never tried Krispy Kreme, you suck! I mean it, you have no idea what you are missing. Unless you ain't got a Krispy Kreme anywhere around and then, well, I sympathize for you. Now, I know Krispy Kreme can be purchased at some super markets, but, nooooo! You have to BUY IT from Krispy themselves. It's really cool you can see them make the doughnuts, put the glaze (calling it icing is just sacrilegious:P). And they literally DO melt in your mouth.

Part 24 – Sweet And Sticky Stuff

"What?" I ask, raising my eyebrow and trying for my best angelic routine, knowing, full well, what I am doing to him. Harm clears his throat, attempts to save himself an embarrassing moment, but fails miserably and the look on his face is just adorable. Really, it gets me when he is all flustered.

I reach over for another doughnut and munch away on it. Harm's trying to pretend that he doesn't care, but I know he does. And I know, he's just waiting for me to lick the glaze off of my fingers. "Erm, maybe I should have another?" He says, reaching for the box, which I snatch away from him. "Hey! I know you're an only child too, but at least I learned to share."

Giggling audibly, I wave a glaze-covered finger at him. This morning the two of us woke up in the mood for Krispy Kreme. They have got to be the best doughnuts in the world, and I've had a lot of different types. But, I swear if someone told me there was crack in their doughnuts, I'd believe it! They are so good, addicting and melt in your mouth. What amused me more than anything, is the fact that Mr. Health Freak has abandoned his diet and wolfed down more than I had. Then again, I take my time savoring them, Harm. . .Well, he's just attacking them as if the franchise would close down tomorrow. "Harm, you've had HALF the box. Your rabbit food is gonna start getting jealous." I admonish, not that it matters, I mean, the man won't be losing shape anytime soon.

"So?" Grinning, he snatches a doughnut out of the box. "Mac, with our healthy sexual appetite, I'm burning more calories than a twenty mile run." I blush when I think that our over enthusiasm last night cost me my bed, again. Well, it's not exactly _our_ fault, I mean, the General sent me away for a few weeks to head up an investigation in San Diego, with Vukovic. Harm and I had some very, very, very, very interesting conversations over the phone; all of the X rated nature. So between frustration, loneliness and the fact that Vukovic was riding on my last nerve, things got rather intense when I got home. I mean; the GOOD type of intense. I swear, some of my muscles are still aching. "Besides, after last night, I need a pick me up."

"You didn't have any troubles getting _picked up_ last night, flyboy." Yep, even though we've been together for several months now, Harm is still a boy scout. Sitting up, I whack him on the back a few times to help dislodge the doughnut that he is choking on. "You alright?"

Harm nods, reaches for the coffee and downs some of it before recovering. "Woah, that went down the wrong way."

I roll my eyes and chuckle slightly. Men; no matter how old, are still little boys at heart. Sighing happily, I reach over to the box and pick out another doughnut. "These suckers are sooo addicting." I say, taking a few large bites. And there goes Harm, eyeing me again. I know what he's waiting for, so I polish the doughnut off as quickly as possible. . .uh, without choking, then start my little slow.

Slowly, sexily, with my eyes closed, I lick my index finger, stopping at the top and slipping it into my mouth to suck on it. Hearing Harm groan, I bite my cheek in order to prevent myself from dying of laughter. Then I start to work on my next finger, then the next.

"MAC! Stop that!" You know, I'd expected to get some other form of reprimand, but knowing that I have him wound up is just . . .well, amusing. "And don't try to play innocent, you know what you're doing to me."

"Harm, I am only licking the gaze off of my fingers . . .and I mean, this is some really good, sweet and sticky stuff." He leers at me and I just need to tease him a bit more. Besides, he did the same to me last night. When I arrived from San Diego it was about 2200 here and Harm was waiting for me, in bed, with just a sheet and that sexy, flyboy smile. Now, you'd figure that with that incentive he would cut to the chase, right? Nope, he spent a good hour just teasing the hell out of me.

Grabbing my hand, he takes the last sweet and sticky finger and starts to nibble on it. Oooh, talk about turning the tables. He licks the glaze off, slowly, watching me as he does it. I know my mouth is hanging open. In fact, I've all but stopped breathing. Thank God I didn't bother changing the sheets, I have a feeling we're about to end up in my room again. He's seducing me just by licking a finger, but _that_ look in his eyes. Oooh man, oooh man. It should be illegal. He pulls me closer to him, keeping my formerly sticky hand in his as he slowly leans in to kiss me. I really don't know how it is that we do this; how we can make our intimate moments feel like the first time. . .But, it happens and it, wonderfully takes us both in.

"Damnit." I curse, looking at Harm helplessly as the knock on my door made the moment magically disappear. "It's Vukovic." I say and chuckle at the horrified look in Harm's eyes. "When you were inside getting the doughnuts, he called my cell. . . Apparently I have something he needs."

Harm lets go of me as I head on over to the door. "Oh, I _know_ just what he _needs_ from you and he ain't getting it."

I chuckle and would explain to Harm for the billionth time that Vic is nothing to worry about, but. . .Actually, I think he plays the jealousy card as some sort of, sick, male way to let me know he cares. "Oh, Harm. . .Why do I want a boy when I have a man?" I open the door and find Vic, dressed in civvies; tight leather pants with a white shirt standing on the other side. I eye him curiously, biting back any comments about that outfit being outdated by twenty years.

Smiling, he looks me up and down, the smile widening as if he knew that sizing me up would work. Uh huh, nope. "Good morning, ma'am."

"Lieutenant." I nod and wave him into the apartment only to see his eyes go wide and smile vanish at the sight of Harm. "So, what can I do you for, Lieutenant, you said it was urgent."

Vic has suddenly seemed to have lost all of his gusto. "I ah, well. . .Morning, sir." He all but stands at attention when Harm struts, and I do mean _struts,_ over to my side.

With this sickening, cheery tone, Harm extends his hand and shake's Vic's. "Hey, there Vic. How's things?"

"Ah, good, sir. . . I just needed to work on the Collins with Mac. .Uh, I mean, Colonel MacKenzie." He tries to smile, but it really doesn't erase that scared expression on his face. "The General wants the Colonel as second chair. . .and. . .some things are fuzzy."

Harm grins, "You can call her Mac when we're off duty. . .You can call me Harm, when we're off duty too." He struts. . .yes, he's still strutting, over to my table, rifles through a few files and hands Vic the Collins file. "Here ya go. . .Want a doughnut?" He retreats back to the living room, grabbing the Krispy Kreme box and the four doughnuts that are left. I really meant it, he ate half the box!

It's actually amusing to stand here witnessing this. "A doughnut?" Vic asks as if it's some alien form of food.

"Yea, that round dough, missing a center, covered with glaze." Harm smiles down at me. "It's some really good, sweet and sticky stuff." He's all but obliterated Vic's cocky attitude. I guess it would attribute to Vic's inability to win a single case against my flyboy. He places the box on my dinner table and then heads back to the living room. "Work away, I'll just be over here." He smiles sweetly, but there is this underlying look in his eyes that tells Vic he'll be keeping an eye on him.

Uncomfortably, Vic starts to work on the case with me. There are a few things we have to follow up on as I am sure Bud and Sturgis are going to give us a run for our money. Reaching over to the box, there are two doughnuts left, Vic had the other two, I take one and start to chew on it. "I'll take this witness. When I interrogated him last week I may have found a weakness."

Grinning, Vic likes that idea. "Cool you can use that gift of grilling people on the stand . . .I'll be happy to just sit down and watch."

Harm snorts. "Yea, she's nice to watch isn't she?"

"Harm!" I admonish, picking a stress ball I have on the table and chucking it to him. He grabs it in mid air and gives it a few good squeezes. "NO, you can't have it. . .get your own!" I yell, laughing at this look he gives me, one that seems like he's found something he was missing in life. Finishing off my doughnut, I really don't realize that I am licking the glaze off until I find Vukovic's mouth partially open. Oh, he's also salivating. "What?. . .Oh. . .sorry." I giggle slightly, grabbing a napkin and wiping, rather than licking, the glaze off of my fingers. "I just really like these."

"Ahem. . .I think we're good for now, ma'am. . .I have several errands I have to run. . .Something suddenly came up." He says, his face taking a pinkish tint. Oh, I am sure I can figure out what went up.

I remain impassive, as he stands and all but runs out of my place. "Sir, I'll see you on Monday. . .Thank you ma'am." He has the file covering is. . .er. . .nether regions as he closes the door behind him.

Harm, who I know realize has been watching the whole thing, stands up and saunters over. "Hmmm, now do you think THAT tactic might work for me next time I am up against him?"

Chuckling, I stand up and slide into his waiting arms. "I dunno, but if it does, I am going to start getting really worried about you and Vic, flyboy. . .I might get jealous." I kiss him slowly and I know he's savoring the bit of glaze on my lips. "Now I know just what I need to win that case against you on Friday."

"Oh yea, what's that?"

"Doughnuts. . .because it's clear that you just can't resist me eating some of that sweet and sticky stuff." He groans in answer and lifts me into his arms, stumbling slightly over the ottoman as we head into the bedroom. Well, thank God we decided to leave the bed on the floor where it fell, I have a feeling that if we'd fixed it, it may have just broken again.

TO BE CONTINUED. . . .


	25. Crazy Connection

Okay, this actually happened to me! Not with the huffing and puffing, but I had my line mixed up with someone else's it was weird. You'll see what I mean. ;)

Enjoy!

Jackie

Part 25 – Crazy Connection

I sigh deeply as I roll my car to the drive thru window of Mac's favorite restaurant. I am late by more than an hour and know that the only way my beautiful Marine will not kill me is by bringing her food. Beltway Burgers always has a line half a mile long and since this is Friday, the line has doubled in size. "Well this just sucks." I say with a huff and flip on the radio to find a familiar song playing. "_When I get this feeling, I want sexual healin'."_ Umm. Quite the song and Marvin Gaye is the master!

The music reminds me of last weekend and a little book called the Kama Sutra that Mac and I were glancing through. We bought it on a whim, after going to the bookstore and finding it in the clearance section. And it isn't one of those modern books with modern pictures. No way. It's the one with the ancient hand paintings and very few words. "I can't do _that!_" I remember Mac saying with a blush as she tried to force me to turn the page away from a very awkward position.

"No no no. . .wait a second." Glancing at the picture, I grabbed one of her legs attempting to place it on my lap, but she just slapped my hand away, erupting in a fit of giggles. "What?"

She glanced at me with an exasperated look. "Oh nothing, just that I'd have to be a contortionist to do _that!_" Mac flips a page over and starts chuckling, her face turning even redder. "This would hurt your knees."

I glanced at the picture, noticing she was quite right about that. The position had the man on the bottom, woman on the top with her back to him while he arch's his back to raise them both off of the bed, ground, whatnot. "How is that supposed to be pleasurable?"

Turning to Mac I found a wicked grin on her lips as her index finger points out a picture. "Now, this one we've done once or twice."

I followed her finger on the page and this time it was my turn to blush. "Uh yea, we do that one well, actually."

"Welcome to Beltway Burgers, how may I help you?" I hear the familiar tone of what has to be an overly perky, teen who is probably on either the cheerleading or spirit squad.

"Good evening, let me have a double Lincoln burger with cheese, no pickles, no lettuce, with extra special sauce, large fries and a large diet sprite." I scoff at the diet sprite, which I really don't get. Mac stuffs herself full of dead animal and fried foods, but then orders a diet drink which is actually more unhealthy than the burgers. I mean, aspartame is just PURE poison. If it's allowed to heat too much it converts to something along the lines of formaldehyde. Or so I read once.

"Anything else?" I glance around the menu again, noting they have a new selection of salads that do seem rather edible, along with this fruit and nuts thingy. I order both, get a regular soda for myself and am soon sitting in the line, which is still at a standstill.

While I wait, I decide to call Mac and make sure she won't kick me out of her place when I arrive. _"'kenzie."_ I hear her answer, her voice sounding as if she's been exhorting herself. _"Mmmmm. . .yea, RIGHT THERE!"_

For a moment, I am slightly taken back with her exuberance. Removing the phone from my ear, I stare at it dumbly for a moment, then bring it back. "Uh, Mac?"

"_Hey, you're late, flyboy."_ She admonishes and I am about to retort when I hear a male voice distinctly say _"Come back to bed, baby."_

"Who the hell is there?" I demand and feel a lick of anger start to bubble. It's probably unfounded I mean, I know Mac wouldn't cheat on me. I know it. But, when a woman answers the phone and you hear a man. . .Oh, God! The guy is moaning now. . .so is she! "Mac! What the hell! Who the hell! How could you!" I am losing it now, in fact, the woman in the Nissan in front of me has her head out the window wondering what is going on.

As an answer I get both female and male voices in the throes of passion. _"Oooh God. . .yes!"_

"Mac!" No no no, this isn't happening to me!

"_What the hell was that?"_ I hear her voice say over the line, she seems to be just as surprised as I am. _"Oooh yea, right there, baby. . .YES!"_ I hear her groan distastefully after that comment. _"Harm? What the hell are you doing?"_

"ME!" I yell back, tossing the money at the perky sales girl and grabbing my bags of food and then the drinks. "I called _you._ . .And find some guy huffing and puffing over there!"

"_What!"_ You know, the way she is yelling back at me, makes me think that she's not doing anything wrong_. "Look Rabb, I don't know what you're playing at, but I am alone. Waiting for you."_ As she is yelling at me, I hear the moans growing louder over the line, drowning out anything else she plans on telling me.

In fact, the sounds have gotten so intense, I have to yell over the line to be heard. "Then what the hell is that?"

"_Well it's not. . ."_ Mac begins to say, but a rather loud, staccato, female, banshee type of voice cuts her off followed by a slew of profanities. _"Now you see it's not me! I don't say that when we're. . .we're. . ."_

"When we're what, Mac?" I chuckle into the phone feeling, for the first time since the conversation started, a bit of levity. Hey, I know I might have been a bit. . .umm worried. Okay, A LOT worried. But, when you call your girlfriend and hear moaning and groaning over the line, you would worry too.

Mac sighs into the phone, it's this soft, sexy sigh that makes my heart flutter. _"Making love. . .Where are you anyway? I mean you were supposed. . ."_ I am not entirely sure why it's getting worse over the line. Maybe it's just them or. . .I haven't a clue, _"Jesus, RENT A ROOM."_ She yells over the moans. _"Harm? Are you there?"_

"Yes, I am on the way over with food. Beltway Burgers."

"_What?"_

"BELTWAY BURGERS."

"_What about them?"_

"I bought some. . .OH, never mind. . .I AM ON THE WAY OVER WITH FOOD." I bellow out

Getting my car going again, I race through the streets of Georgetown, curious to figure out where it's coming from. "Can you figure out who that is?"

"_I am not so sure I want to KNOW who THAT is!"_ She yells with a tone of exasperation in her voice. _"Maybe the line's are crossed? You know? Like some mixed up connection?"_

"That's one crazy connection." I say which a chuckle as the moans become increasingly loud. "Jeez. We don't sound like that do we?" Suddenly, I feel self conscious as to who might be listening when Mac and I get into our. . .umm. . .groove.

Mac chuckles over the line. _"We probably do. . .Harm? Wait one, I have another call."_ The moment she clicks over, the moans and groans vanish and I have nothing but a nice, quiet line.

I arrive at her building, jump out of the car, with food, and head inside. Using my key, I let myself in and find my girl on the phone. "Hey baby!" I yell, coming up behind her, trying to place a kiss on her neck. The moment I try to kiss her, Mac swats me away, whacking me on the nose. "Oww! Hey, Mac! What was that for?"

"Yes, _sir._" She grinds out, glaring at me with a look that would kill. "I understand, General. . .No, sir. ..Yes. . . Of course. No, sir, the Commander and I keep our private life to ourselves. . .Yes, I will call the phone company immediately. . .Thank you. . . Have a good evening sir."

I imagine that was Cresswell on the line and if that huffing and puffing was still going on. . .Yep, that would explain why Mac's face is two shades of red. "Ooops."

"Ooops is right!" She yells, tossing the cordless onto the sofa. "Do you have _any_ idea how EMBARASSING it is to have your CO call you and hear. . ._that_!" She points at the phone with disgust and settles herself onto the arm of the sofa. "God, they've said things I didn't even know existed."

"Now who's the prude, Mac?" I grin smugly at her and I swear, she's about to kill me until I wave the bag from Beltway in front of her. "Dinner first, kill me later."

As much as she's TRYING to keep that pissed off look, the food is swaying her, I can tell. "Alright, Commander, but you didn't kiss me when you walked in."

I stare at her for a moment. "Uh, you whacked me when I tried."

"Well then." She presses her body up against mine, stands on her tippy toes and gives me this long, passionate kiss. I feel her hand moving down my arm and that's when she steals the beltway bag away from me. "Mac!" I groan out as she moves away giggling. "You're terrible, Marine."

"Someone's gotta be."

I watch her sway with the bag of food almost like a little girl that has just received a present she really, really wanted. For a moment, I feel guilty at thinking she would have been cheating on me. What kind of a fool was I? "Hey, I'm. . .s-sorry for um. . .you know. . .the call, thinking that some. . .guy was here." I take off my jacket, set it on the back of a chair then slide into the seat next to hers. "It was stupid of me. . .I mean, I trust you. . .you know I trust you right?" God I hope she does.

Mac munches on a French fry while she attempts to pry my salads out of the bag. "I trust you."

"And you're not mad?" I find myself asking, wishing I would just keep my trap shut and leave things as they were, peaceful.

Thoughtfully, she chews on another fry, then glances at me. I feel my throat suddenly dry as sandpaper. "Nope. . I mean, for a moment there I thought YOU had a girl with you." We chuckle at the absurdity of it all. "Besides, you wouldn't cheat on me. .. I'd kill you, you know that." She says that with a twinkle in her eye and a mischievous grin. However, it does not remove the seriousness from her comment. And I know, for a fact, that she would probably bend me into a pretzel. Actually, that's kind of kinky. "What?" She asks as I figure that I am staring at her with a silly expression.

"Oh nothing, I was just thinking that if I ticked you off too much you'd bend me into a pretzel. . ."

"Which you find kinky?" Damn, this woman knows me too well. Reaching across the table she places a hand over mine, her thumb running slowly circles over my skin. "Let's finish dinner and we'll find out shall we?"

"Uh. . .s-sure." I gulp down some soda and find myself, completely flustered. Thank God for weekends!


	26. Microwaving 101

If you think this can't happen. Think again. I've learnt the smartest of people can't operate microwaves. 

Jackie

Part 26 - Microwaving 101

"Hey Mat. .tie." As I walk into Harm's apartment, I find Mattie hunched over the bar examining a bag of popcorn. "Oh no."

Mattie turns to me slightly, shaking her head with a look of disgust. "Oh yes."

"But, I thought we went through this with him?" You know? This is really starting to get irritating. I mean! It's POPCORN and Harm's an excellent cook. What the hell! "Okay, we need to have a talk with the man, where is he?"

She tossed a look towards his bedroom and that's when I hear the start of his shower. "You think they make a Microwaving For Dummies book?

"Hmmm. . . could be." I chuckle, loving that Mattie's sense of humor is nearly identical to my own. "I really don't get it. . .It's almost as bad as him with his laptop." I love Harm, really I do. . .No, scratch that. I am IN LOVE with him. He's my partner for life, my soul mate and any other term that would fit us. However, the man is an idiot when it comes to having a microwave. As a gift, I bought him a medium sized one since he delighted in the rather large machine I have in my kitchen.

One of the reasons why he was fascinated with my microwave had to do with the instant coffee packs. Coffee machines, generally, take their sweet time to percolate. And while this is fine and dandy, sometimes you just want to have it NOW. Well, these coffee packs are, basically, coffee in a tea bag. You get a microwave safe mug, fill it with water, place the coffee bag, punch a couple of minutes in the microwave and viola! You have coffee.

Of course, with me, I need to add about three bags because that stuff is just NOT Marine strength, but anyway. . . Believe it or not, something so simple, Harm has problems with. And they are just not like little problems. They are HUGE. Last weekend, he was making breakfast and decided to impress me with his new nuking skills. Somehow, he managed to burn the little coffee bags. As in flames coming out of the mugs. And I always wondered why he stayed the hell away from the microwave in the break room. In fact, when he brought food that needed to be warmed up, he'd wait for someone to be in there with him. Now I know why.

Getting back to the popcorn, Harm, despite the fact that the bag has rather good instructions, has an uncanny knack of literally charbroiling microwaveable popcorn. The first time I tell him to put it in my microwave, he did, then walked away. One rule with microwaveable popcorn – DON'T WALK AWAY! If you do, chances are you'll end up with nasty burn kernels. Well, he walked away and as he pulled the bag out, the top kernels were fine, however, I quickly detected that faint stench of burnt and noticed that the CENTER of the popcorn bag would not stop smoking! By the time I smelled smoke and opened up the machine, it was too late. A thick, icky smelling fume loomed over the kitchen for a good hour and a half. Not to mention everything in his apartment smelled like that for DAYS! DAYS!

Propping up next to Mattie I see a little plume of smoke snaking out of the center of the bag. "How does he manage it?" I try to open the bag and stick my hand inside but am, literally BURNT. "Oww!"

"Hey beautiful." I hear Harm standing behind me. His arms wraps around my waist as he places a kiss on my shoulder. "Ugh, what happened to _that_?" I can just imagine the disgusted look on his face.

Slowly, I turn to him giving him a sharp glare that would likely melt the polar icecaps. "It's quite simple, Harm. . .just because you think you can leave things in the microwave _unattended_ doesn't mean you can." I grin up at him, seeing a hint of irritation flashing in his eyes. "You burnt it." I accuse in a very sweet and innocent voice trying my damnest not to embarrass him more.

Harm takes the bag from us and glances inside only to be hit with a little puff of smoke. "Eww. That's. Dis.gust.ing." He punctuates between coughs. Extending his hand he holds the pop corn bag with the tips of his fingers, all the while making a face until he drops it in the trash. "Okay. . .umm. . .so what do you want to snack on?" He turns to us, that flyboy grin in place. I know he's using it to milk me for all I am worth and. . .sad to say, it's working. But, don't tell him that.

Mattie glances at me, shaking her head almost as if to ward me from allowing Harm around the microwave. "Uh. . .I don't know. . .you hungry Mac?"

"I say we order out."

"Actually!" Harm's about to contradict, I know he is. Ever since he became aware that there are some semi-healthy foods in the frozen food section, he's been itching to try out a few. "I bought one of those books of recipes for the microwave. There are a few things I want to try out."

"NO!" Mattie and I both bark out together. Harm indignant look starts to turn towards one of hurt. "What we mean to say is that. . .you know, Mac and I are both _starved_. . .maybe we should just order pizza?" Mattie attempts to pacify things and I really think that Harm is going for it. If I'd have said it I am sure he would have gone on a long dissertation as to why having pizza is bad while he wolfs down his half of the pie.

"That actually sounds like a great idea."

Halleluiah!

Two hours later, we're done eating, Mattie and Jen have head off to the movies and Harm and I are alone. "I could kiss you forever." He says, in a voice that just melts me to the core. "Your lips are so. . .full. . .so wonderful." He kisses me again, deeply, sensuously and somewhere in the back of my mind I am reminded that a) we have work to finish and b) I still have to question him about his microwaving methods. Yes, I realize I am being a nag but who's to stop him from lighting the apartment on fire?

"Harm." I rasp out, groaning as my body is being quite the traitor as of late. Oh, who the hell am I kidding? In regards to Harmon Rabb Junior, my body just runs on autopilot. "Harm." And then, as his mouth finds that spot on my neck. Sigh. It's heavenly. "Harm?" Before I know it, he's on top of me, his kisses going somewhere down my neck between. . . "Harm!"

"What!" He yells, glaring at me all hot, bothered and irritated. I can't help but chuckle as his erratic look. I mean, he is literally looking like a mad man.

I smile sweetly, knowing I am about to drop some sort of bomb. "We need to talk."

And just like that, the man deflates before me. "Uh oh."

"It's nothing serious." Yea, then why does he look as if he's just been shot? "I mean it. . .first, we need to finish work before we. . uh." I grin at him mischievously and let my hand caress his chest ever so slightly. "Before we finish what we started. . .And second. . ."

"Work can wait." He says as I dodge another assault from him. This really, really sucks, but, duty calls.

Placing my hands on his chest, I back him off slightly. "You said that last week and then we had to spend Friday night, all of Saturday and Sunday doing make up work. . .I am not going to burn this weekend again, Commander."

Harm's rich chuckle echoes throughout the apartment. Half of what happened last weekend was my fault as much as it was his fault. We just. . .well. . .we can't keep our hands off each other. Maybe there was something to the Admiral's suggestion that we not get too close and work together? "Yea, okay." With one quick kiss, he gets off of me and settles himself on the floor, leaning against the sofa. "So what was the other thing you wanted to talk to me about?"

This sounds silly even though I know it's something he needs to hear. "The microwave."

By this time, he's half listening to me, jotting notes down furiously on a legal pad. "What about it?"

"Well you keep burning things."

"I do not."

He's kidding me right? "Harm, you lit the coffee bags on fire last weekend and today, I get here to find a bag of popcorn with SMOKE coming out of it. SMOKE Harm, smoke!"

"Do you have a point, Mac?" He's sounding a little coarse now, and I don't blame him. In MacKenzie-speak,I am basically calling him an idiot.

Reaching over him, I take both the legal pad and pen away, forcing him to look at me. "I don't want to sound mean, but you need to learn how to use it, it's not that difficult."

Harm's irritation seems to have a mind of it's own. One moment, he looks like he's about to chop my head off, the next, he looks enamored with me. Sighing, he takes the pad and pen back. "I suppose I could read a book or two. . ." I am about to say something else, when he gives me a deadly sexy grin. "Of course, I could always get _you_ to tutor me."

"Tutor you? On how to use a microwave?" Even as my lips turn up to grin, I see how ludicrous this sounds. "What? Like Microwaving 101?"

"Oh yea. . .Microwaving 101, I like it!" He turns around completely to face me. "I mean, we can do some sort of award system. . .you know, I get something for each meal I don't shish kabob." His finger lazily runs circles up my arm. Oh, boy.

"Yea? What type of awards?"

His fingers are now stroking my collar bone. "Oh, I don't know. . .a kiss here, a make out session there. . .some hot lovin' afterwards. . .I think it could work."

As our lips meet, the thoughts of microwaves and the nuking-inept sailors that use them are out of my mind. My last conscious thought as Harm lifts me into his arms and takes me to bed is about all the work we're going to have to make up for this weekend, AGAIN. Not that I mind too much. Actually, if I am in his bed, I don't mind at all.

TBC...


	27. Third Time’s A Charm? Maybe not

Part 27 – Third Time's A Charm? Maybe not.

We're going to have sex in the supply closet. Yes, we are at it again and I know, I know, the last two times it's been rather, awkward. Actually, there really haven't been TWO times, I mean, the first time I was just joking with Mac. The second time, she was just joking with me. But this time we have a game plan and it will work!

This weekend, after spending it trying to finish the work we didn't on Friday night due to extracurricular umm… anyway, we decided it was time to break the curse of the supply closet. It might be unprofessional, against regs and totally insane, but, it's damn exhilarating! First of all, we've taken precautions to make sure that a) no one has scheduled some sort of fire drill, earthquake drill, tsunami drill, etc b) Creswell is OUT of the office C) our co-workers are out of the office and d) that the closet we chose does not lock from the outside. This means we had to do some reconnaissance.

For the past week we've scoured through every nook and cranny of the building. We made sure no security cameras were there or any methods of surveillance. We even found a closet that seems to work better than JAG's tiny supply closet – the one outside of the judge's quarters in courtroom B which was more like a huge walk-in closet with plenty of space to frolic. Friday seemed to be the perfect day as everyone usually secured early. It wouldn't be uncommon to find either Mac or I working late with the other one waiting up. In fact, we did that regularly now.

Getting up from my chair, I make sure everything in the office is secure for the evening and go in search of Mac. I stop under her doorframe, grinning stupidly as I watch her. She's staring intently at the computer screen, her mouth biting on the cap of her pen, a habit that I'd always noticed but had to keep my mouth shut about. "Oh, to be that pen." I say smugly and without invitation, let myself into her office. "You ready?"

Annoyed she glances up from the screen. "You know, just because we're dating, doesn't mean you can just _barge_ into my office, _Commander._" Damnit, I should be slightly off put, but the way Mac uses my rank when she's pissed is so damn sexy. "Just give me a minute, I need to finish up this report."

Her whole demeanor at this moment is completely different from the woman I took to lunch earlier today. The one that was having trouble keeping her hands on me. The one that urged me to do the whole closet adventure thing with her. "Jeez, Marine, don't sound so excited about it." I can't help the disappointment in my voice. I mean, yes, it's risky and totally stupid, but it _seems_ fun.

With a sheepish grin, she stares up at me, her annoyance changing completely to a look of seduction. "I am excited. . I just. . .just didn't want to seem to eager." Mac's grin broadens slightly as her eyes move back to the screen. I hear the keyboard keys pressing down several times before she straightens herself and shuts off the puter. "_Now_ I'm ready."

As she comes around the desk, I take her into my arms, kissing her softly. "You don't think that planning this takes away the spontaneity of the moment?"

Mac shakes her head as her arms wrap around my neck. "Nope. . .it just means we are _cautious_ and with our track record, that's a good thing." Releasing me, she takes my hand and pulls me out of her office. "C'mon, flyboy."

We head down the hallways, both giggling like teenagers. Exhilarated, I follow behind her, feeling like a love sick idiot. We come apart at a particular area which we know is guarded by a camera, and quickly pass by seemingly all cool and collected only to reach for each other again once we make it up to the fourth floor where the courtrooms are. "Now, where is it?" Mac asks, stopping at the corridor which adjoins the different courtrooms. "Was it B or A?"

"Definitely A. . .B had that closet that smelled like mold, remember?"

Her nose scrunches up in disgust. "Oh yea, I have to remember to tell Cresswell about. . ." My stern look stops her thought processes. "Or not. . ." Cresswell doesn't really want to hear about us and closets anymore. If the damned closet smells like something died in it, it's staying that way because we aren't saying a thing.

Finally, we spot the supply closet which Mac pulls me into, giggling all the way. Yes, she giggles. I can make a MARINE giggle! I basically fall onto her hearing an 'umph' as she hits the shelves. "You. . .alright." I say between kisses to her face and neck, feeling her smiling lips then on my own.

"Shut up and kiss me, sailor." Like I wasn't going to oblige? I just wanted to make sure she was alright. . .apparently she is. "Mmm, Harm, how'd you do that?"

In the dark, I glance down at her, shrugging slightly. "Uh, do what?"

"Your hands, they feel like they are. . .everywhere." Her voice is soft, breathy, sexy, making me tingle all over. How is it that we've been together countless times yet I still feel like a hormone raging teenager? "It's like. . ."

"Ahem." A voice, way too deep to be Mac's clears whatever it is she was going to say. I feel Mac's body move closer to mine. "Fancy meeting you two in here."

The closet is suddenly bathed in light and I find that Mac and I aren't the only ones with a closet fetish. Apparently, the General and Mrs. Creswell are into it too. "General!" Both Mac and I practically yell out in shock. We try coming to attention, but in the position she's in, that just isn't going to happen, so I settle for holding her up straighter.

Mrs. Creswell is turning BEET red, for that matter, so is the General though he is trying to do this whole cool, collected and professional thing. "Colonel, Commander. . .how are you?" She says, holding on to the General as if her life depended on it.

I take a good look at Creswell and find lipstick marks all over his face and even some on his collar. Oh man, this is just classic. One of those stories that have to remain a secret no matter how much you want to tell your friends if you value your life. "Oh, we're just fine." I hear Mac say between fits of laughter. Doubling over slightly, she rests her face on my shoulder and just cracks up. The whole tension seems to swoosh out of the room and we soon find us four sharing one hell of a laugh. "Oh God. . .this is just. . .perfect."

"Guess I can get off of your case over the supply closet adventures?" The General asks me sheepishly.

I shrug back, coming up with ideas, ever the lawyer. "Actually, sir, this belongs to the judiciary, so, technically, it's out of your jurisdiction."

"Touché." He glances at Mac and I, then at his wife. "What say we get out of here?"

"Sounds good to me." Mac says as she reaches for the door knob. And, just as luck would have it, the door ain't budging. "Oh no."

"Oh no?" The three of us say, glancing at her with an incredulous glare. This can't be happening again? And this time, we're screwed! It's FRIDAY! NO ONE is here! "It's not budging."

"Oh, c'mon! Give us a break here!" I plead to any saint that wants to listen. Grabbing Mac, I shift her out of the way and try to get out using brutal force. Now, here's where it gets tricky. All of the doors at JAG are made of some special type of materials that DO NOT let the damned things budge. "Please! This is SO NOT the way I want to spend my weekend!"

At that moment, I think we are all thinking the same thing like – food, sleeping arrangements, going to the bathroom. "Commander, lets put some real man power into it." Creswell says as he slips off the remainder of his jacket which he hands to his wife. He rolls up his sleeves, stands next to me and begins to order, "On three. . .two. . ."

"ONE ugh!" We both breathe out roughly and I swear I came as close to breaking my shoulder as I would have ever liked. "We're screwed." I breathe out and turned to Creswell with a wry smile. "I guess we'll have to hunker down."

And hunker down we do. For about two hours we sit in the small closet, in the dark. The damned light bulb blew about half hour in and now we are there, finding ways to enjoy ourselves. Ways that weren't in any of our agendas. One good thing came out of all of this, I got to know Creswell better, much better. In fact, he's a pretty cool guy who loves to tell silly stories from his time in the service. "So. . .you two are sure there isn't a way out of here?" His voice almost sounds as if he's pleading, not that I am going to tell him that.

Mac and I stare at each other, both thinking about how well we know the building. To my knowledge, there isn't a way to get out of any of the closets, not that I have such a great mental blueprint of the place. "Not a clue sir. . .I mean we don't go around doing these sorts of things."

Creswell snorts loudly, "Uh huh, which is why I've caught you two twice. . .this makes it THREE times. . .Shhh. . what's that?" The four of us remain eerily silent, listening for whatever the General has heard. As luck would have it, we all hear it – giggling. That is followed by the sound of the closet doorknob jingling! We all come to our feet, ready to move out when, a second later, Bud and Harriet spill into the room and fall solidly onto Mac who looks mortified.

The General and I exchange an amused glance as the Roberts' finally sober up. "General!" They both say simultaneously and despite ourselves, we all start laughing.

"At ease, you too. . ." Unfortunately, he acted a _bit_ too late. In their shock, Bud and Harriet manage to let the door shut behind them. "Watch the door! No!"

Mac moves away from the Roberts and tries to jiggle the handle. "Welcome to the seventh circle of hell." I would agree with her.

Another half hour goes by and this 'spacious' supply closet has turned into a sardine can of a sauna. We're all sweating bullets. We've all taken off the top layer of our clothing and I try not to think about Mac who only needs to discard two more items of clothing before she's at my mercy. Bud clears his throat and I can hear him shuffling slightly. "Umm, General, sir? Will we be penalized for this sort of thing? I mean Harriet and I never. . ."

Creswell chuckles at the absurdity of Bud's comment. He's about to answer when, from the outside, we hear a set of voices, male and female. "HELP!" I hear Mac yell, nearly blowing out and, I assume everyone else's eardrums. "We're in here! We're trapped help!" She turns towards me, "Well, c'mon people!"

The six of us team up, yelling until our throats hurt and then, the most wonderful and horrible thing happened, Vukovic opened the door. "Uh? Sirs, ma'am?" He seems to be confused with our predicament but chooses to keep his mouth shut about it. Thank God for protocol.

I am about to thank him, when I see Barbie come up next to him holding a set of handcuffs. "Vic, are we going to. . .Oh?" She glances at us, specifically Mac and I with a look that could kill. "Guess it's a busy night at JAG." Vic spins towards her, glaring hard.

"What was going on here, sir?" The man actually has the nerve to ask. Now, yes, I do know the General a bit better, but I am not stupid when it comes to my place in the food chain. As a junior officer, moments like these are meant to be ignored.

Creswell takes his wife's hand and steps out first. "Nothing that concerns you Lieutenant. . .Alright people, let's move." He orders the rest of us which follow out in single file leaving Vic there with as confused expression as I've ever scene.

Downstairs, we say goodbye to the Creswell's and the Roberts. "You know, next time we want to have a little fun in a closet I suggest we use my walking." The twinkle in her eye makes me believe that her suggestion is one that she wants to have realized by the end of the night.

"Is that an invitation?" I ask, moving a step closer to her.

Rather than the invitation I was hoping for, Mac gives me an un-lady-like snort, then places her Corvette's keys in my hand. "Yea, right. . .After this I am so exhausted all I want to do is sleep." She walks around to the passenger's side, opens the door and gets in. Looking up towards the building, I wonder if maybe a forth trip to the supply closet is in order?

Maybe not.


	28. Boyfriends and Laser Tag

Okay, so I have a thing with laser tag. ;) Sue me. :) Hope you enjoy this one, I have a few more up my sleeve, just need to get them down.

Jackie

PART 28 – Boyfriends and Laser Tag

Harm has claimed that I have a healing touch when it comes to him. That all his worries seem to vanish when I caress him. Apparently, my powers are immune when it comes to teenaged boys. Either that, or it was all a blatant lie on his part. I try not to laugh at how his nostrils are flaring or how his fists keep clenching and unclenching, but still, a bit of a giggle comes out.

Immediately, Harm turns to face me, his eyes bore into mine and not in a passionate kind of way. It's more of an 'I'm going to kill someone' type of thing. I guess he has a right to get this way, I mean, it's not every day that you meet your daughter's first boyfriend.

"Calm down." I lean in and whisper, my hand grazing his thigh.

We've agreed to go on a double date sort of affair, something that seemed less chaperoned than it was. "So, Nicholas, I understand you want to join the Coast Guards?"

Nicholas painstakingly turned his gaze away from Mattie and stared at us, almost as if it were the first time he realized we were here. "Umm. . .Yes, ma'am. . Uh, I mean, Colonel, Ma'am. . .I'll be the fourth generation puddle jumper." He grinned away, happily using a nickname that in the past was derogatory and now was just used for fun.

"You can just call me Mac." I say only to feel Harm squeezing the life out of my hand. I grunt out slightly, masking the nose by coughing but it all comes out like a wheeze. After he relinquishes the iron grip, I use my own force to bend back a finger or two. I mean, I know he has the right to be all fatherly and paternal, but why do I have to receive punishment?

It's not my fault he doesn't like the kid. I'm a good judge of character and see absolutely nothing wrong with Nick. Harm, doesn't see things my way. "Puddle jumper, huh?. . .We have some of those in the Navy, maybe you should join them?"

Maybe Nick's biggest problem is that he does not seem intimidated AT ALL by Harm. Perhaps he'd gain a point or two more if he at least _pretended_ to be afraid of the big bad sailor. Oh, that's a good one and now I really can't help myself. As Harm goes into some sort of dissertation about how wonderful it is to be a squid, I turn three shades of red just trying to stop myself from laughing. Give it up, Harmon! "Mac? Are you alright?" Mattie asks.

I take my glass of water and swallow some down. "Oh yea. .. allergies."

"So how's about we hit the laser tag, Mattie?" Nick asks with this completely charming look on his face. Oh to be fifteen again.

"Laser tag?" Harm perks up, following Nick's finger as he points towards this black area with a bright green neon sign that says. 'Laser Runner.' "It's dark in there, isn't it?" He says with a sound of contempt. I swear, I think he's going to definitely kill Nick. "Mac, how about we join the teenagers?"

You know? I should have just taken Mattie's side, allowed her to go alone with Nick and attempt to calm my boyfriend down at home. But, the idea of shooting at them with a laser gun actually sounded like fun. "Oh, hell, yes!" Needless to say, I ran across the gaming parlor like a five year old on a sugar high.

It takes a good sixteen minutes before we are allowed inside. The walls are painted black and there is a nauseating florescent light above that shines down on two rows of vests which divided the group into "teams." As we stand there, a group of kids and a couple of adults join in. A few of the game operators are trying to discuss teams when I hear Mattie tell them something about me being a Marine and Harm being Navy. As a result I am made captain of the Red team and Harm of the Blue team. "Mac and I are the RED team." Mattie said with a grin as she tossed me a vest with a red mark down the center.

I slipped the vest on and came up with one tiny problem. Well, more like two, large ones. Glancing up, I find Harm, three teenagers and the game operator staring at me, practically salivating. "Are there bigger vests?" For the life of me, I can NOT get my boobs in this stupid thing. The guy shakes his head from side to side. "Fine. . ." Taking a deep breath I suck in my gut, hoping my boobs flatten a bit in the process. No dice and now they are half way up to my chin and squashed beyond belief. Glancing up, I find Harm with a silly expression. "You laugh Flyboy and they won't find your body."

"I wasn't going to laugh, I was just thinking. . ." He stops for a moment noticing that a few of the younger patrons are waiting on him. With a mischievous grin he leans in and whispers. "I was thinking of how lucky that damned vest is right at this moment."

"Whatever, Navy. . .You're going down, right Mattie?" I glance over at my partner and give her a thumbs up.

After we've suited up, the game operator flipped on this video recording of the game, how it works, what we do, the rules, etc. Basically, there are these two 'bases.' One is Base Red and the other is Base Blue. You can't capture the bases, which, kinda sucks, but, if you get to the base with a minimal amount of hits, and shoot at it's sentry, you can rack up more points for your team.

A shot can be made with this futuristic gun that is attached to the vest by a cord. Each vest has six spots to shoot at, two in the front and four in the back. The whole device has a nifty feature, whenever you get shot the vest and gun vibrates and shuts down for about ten seconds. If you make a shot, the gun let's you know by audibly stating: "Nice Shot!" Once the amusing video is done, the doors to the arena open and we step into another black room with neon designs on the walls which make it look like you're on another planet.

The red team, with me as the captain – the kids decided, head to the right side towards our base. As we head in I cast a look behind me to find Harm bringing up the rear on the Blue team. Inside of the arena, are these large 9 foot high, 6 foot wide shields with these lines through the middle that allow you to hide and shoot. They are strategically placed all over the arena so that a player would never be fully exposed.

Glancing upwards, I find a second floor with a suicide bridge and more shields to hide with. "This is so friggin' cool!" Mattie says to me as we head farther into the arena.

"Over here." I tell the team as I hear the operator telling us, over a speaker, that we have a minute to prepare. "You guys take the top." I say pointing to three male teens who seemed to like playing GI Joes. "You'll be our guards." The three happily oblige and begin to head towards the steps that lead to the top level. I give out instructions to the others and leave Mattie with me. "It's just you and I now kiddo."

Mattie grins like a Cheshire cat. "How bad do you think we're going to kick Harm and Nick's butts?" She asks.

"Oh. . .very badly. . .Go!" I yell, once we hear over the loudspeaker that the game has begun. Some funky, techno music plays over the speakers and occasionally, a strobe light tries to dizzy us. We start to weave through the shields and immediately sneak up on two members of the blue team. Mattie aims at one as I shoot the other. "Nice Shot!" Our guns say simultaneously as we round the two and head farther into the blue section. Glancing up I find the three boys shooting at everything in sight but doing a decent job if the fact that we've yet to be shot means anything. Course, I thought too soon.

"Ugh!" I hear Mattie groan and turn around to find Nick pointing his gun at her. "You're gonna pay for that." Pointing, I shoot at him, snickering as he loses his ability to operate the gun. "C'mon Mats." I grab Mattie and pull her behind this wall and a shield. As long as no one comes up from above, we should be safe here. The location is perfect to attack blue team members. "Okay. . .slowly." I start to peak from behind the wall and find my boyfriend with his back to me. "Oooh Jeez, this is sweet." I point at him, shooting once and hitting him before hiding behind the wall. "Nice Shot!" Course, the sound of the gun gives us away and a second later Harm is standing in front of us pointing the laser at me. "You wouldn't shoot me would you, Commander?" I say in a very, very, wispy voice which seems to be winning him over. Or so I thought. I feel my vest shaking, followed by the sound of Harm's chuckling as he backs off and starts to run around the shields. "Okay, now this is war."

"Go get him, Mac! I'm going to go find Nick." I was going to tell Mattie to stay with me. But, before I have a chance, she's heading towards the maze of shields. "Ah, young love." Squaring myself, I head for the task at hand as I slowly pass each shield, keeping myself low enough to not be seen. Not more than thirty seconds later, I spot him, squatting down behind a shield. He tries to get up, but I am a bit quicker. Wrapping an ankle with his, I send him down to the ground, flat on his back.

"Gotcha." I say, shooting once keeping laser pointed at his chest. "Nice Shot!" Grinning, I shoot again right after those ten seconds are over, making sure he can't shoot me back.

Harm is laughing hard and as he tries to stand up, I straddle him, keeping him on the floor. "You know, Mac. You're cheating?"

"How's that so?"

"That time thing of yours. . .You know _exactly_ when the ten seconds were up and shot again to disable the gun." He doesn't seem upset at this though, instead, he's grinning. "Not that I mind the outcome." I feel his hand snaking up my leg and then a jolt against my chest.

"Nice Shot."

Turning around I find Nick and Mattie both pointing their guns at me. I try to stand up and defend myself when all of the lights in the arena come back on. We all remain where we are, momentarily blinded as the operator speaks through the speaker. "Red team is disqualified due to their captain breaking the rules. Repeat, red team is disqualified, Blue team wins!"

Arching my eyebrow in annoyance, I stare down at Harm who is laughing his head off. "Although effective, this is not one of the suitable techniques of laser tag."

I get off of him and then help stand him up. The four of us make it out of the arena and hand back the vests. I strike up a deal with the operator, giving him a bribe of ten bucks if he'd let the kids play again without us interfering. He agrees and Harm and I are happy to just sit back and watch the game from a two way mirror on the second floor. From our vantage point we spot Nick and Mattie, who are now both on the red team, walking together through the maze. "He's protecting her." Harm observes, pointing down towards their location. With a defeated sigh, he turns slowly to me. "He's not a bad kid, you know? Before the game started he told me a few things. . .Like how much he loved Mattie."

"That put you at ease?"

He shrugged slightly, glancing down at the kids. I noticed a change in him and a stiffness in his spine which, I have to confess, worried me slightly. "How long did it take me to tell you that I loved you? Though I did for so long? And this kid. . .he has no problem saying it. . . I envy him for that."

The honesty of his words hits me fully and I can't keep myself from holding Harm in my arms. "But you did say it."

"Yea, a hundred years later."

"Better later than never." I reason and as he looks down at me, I see a smile begin to form. "So does this mean we don't have to chaperone them anymore?" I hope, I mean, Mattie's got a good head on her shoulders and a spirit that is similar to mine. She'd kill the kid if he tried anything she didn't want and I do believe that to be true.

Harm's smile breaks out to his full flyboy one. "Not a chance in hell. . .In fact, they're going out tomorrow night to the county fair." His eyes are gleaming slightly and I am wondering if his amusement ahs to do with us chaperoning or something else. "You know, I've never kissed a girl on a Ferris wheel before."

"Neither have I." I say with a smirk, pulling his head down so I could kiss his lips. "But if we get to kiss on it, does that mean that kids can too?"

"I'm willing to negotiate."

Ah, yes, negotiation. Seems I'm going to have to do a lot of that for Mattie who I spot kissing Nick, right off the corner of my eye. Without stopping the kiss, I turn Harm slightly, putting his back to the mirror so that he can't see them. Ah, young love.


	29. PreValentine’s Day Rustle

PART 29 – Pre-Valentine's Day Rustle

This is the first time ever that I've actually WANTED to celebrate Valentine's Day. Strike that out, the first time was when I was twelve, sappily 'in love' with Becky Friedman and in need to buy her a Valentine. It came in the form of a teddy bear with the words "I Love You" plastered on this little red t-shirt it was wearing. She thought it was 'sweet,' but Mikey Sharp had purchased her a bigger bear which dwarfed mine. Needless to say, I was heartbroken and mom licked my wounds.

Today is NOT Valentine's day. I mean, it can't be farther away, but I thought I would do something NICE for Mac, maybe a pre-Valentine's day. It is because of the past that buying something for Mac became quite the conundrum. I knew I wanted something special, but nothing that would outdo any other memorable moments. Also, what do you get a Marine that you are madly in love with? I think I've come up with a resolution that works. With a grin, I lean against her kitchen cabinet as I wait for the chicken I am baking to be done. She's going to love her present which is currently hiding in her bedroom inside a big box on the other side of the bed. "Well, at least I hope Mac will love it."

"You hope Mac will love what?" Turning around I find Mac staring at me with THAT look in her eyes. Yes, THAT look, the Sarah MacKenzie, I am undressing you with my eyes look. She wraps her arms around me and pulls me close, a form of bribery, I can tell.

"Something I got you. . . I know it's WAY ahead of time but I wanted to do like a Pre-Valentine's day thing."

Mac stares at me as if I've grown six heads. "Uh, it's October?"

"So?" Apparently she likes my reasons as I hear no protests. I hear the timer of her oven go off and stop Mac from opening the oven door. Turning her towards the kitchen entryway, I smack her six and point. "Out, go shower."

"Aye aye, sir." She salutes, then crashes into my arms kissing me senselessly. Despite myself, I kiss back with all that I am worth, holding her to me for just a bit too long. I push Mac against one of the cabinets, then pull her up to sit her down on it's top all the while kissing her.

I reach up, helping her remove her uniform only to find that she's slapping my hands away. "Hey. . ." I attempt to disrobe her once more, but get the same treatment. "Maaac!" I whine.

"It's burning."

"Oh, baby I know, I feel the same way."

Chuckling, she pushes me back slightly and then points at the oven. "No, I mean, whatever is in the oven." Spinning around I find a plume of smoke dancing out of the oven.

"Oh!" I dive towards it, attempting to rescue our meal. Grabbing the oven mitts, I pull out the chicken and am thankful to note that it's not a total loss. "Whew, it's edible."

"It better be, I'm starved." Mac says before smacking my backside and heading out of the kitchen. "I'll be in the shower."

Hmmm, Mac. Shower. Shower. Mac. Argh, the mental images are heard to get away from. With a sigh, and spritz of cold water on my face, I attempt to finish dinner. That's when I hear Mac yelp. And I do mean, YELP. Running across the apartment I find her wearing only her underwear and pointing under her bed. "What?"

"Something's there." I glance towards where she's pointing and nothing happens.

"Mac?"

She grabs me, very unlike her, and points down there again. "I think it's a rat."

Amused, I turn towards her, a broad grin in place. Learn something new every day. "You don't like rats?"

"No!" She yells at me and that is when we spot it again. Maybe she's right? And guess what? I don't like rats either!

Still, I am the MAN, I have to do the manly thing and kill the beast. I move in front of her and point towards the kitchen, "Broom, quick." She darts off and I await patiently for her to arrive. But, she never does and instead chooses to throw the broom at me which, of course, hits me upside the head. "Hey!"

When I take a peak towards the living room I find her standing on top of the coffee table, covering her nakedness with one of my jackets. "Stop standing around and DO something!"

"Mac, you just hit me over the head with the broom stick!"

"Oh, suck it up sailor!"

Suck it up sailor! "Mac, I am sucking it up while you. . .you." Glancing down I see whatever it is dart past me and into her closet. "AH!"

"What! What!" Mac yells jumping from the coffee table to the sofa. "What happened?"

Using the broom, I slowly open up the closet door. Oh this isn't good. It's dark in there and, that I can remember the light needs to be fixed. "Nothing, it's inside the closet."

"My closet! Inside MY closet!"

Annoyed, I yell back. "No, Mac, my closet. . .Shhh! I'm trying to get it." I move slowly, almost as if I'm coming up on an enemy and then step inside. It takes forever for my eyes to adjust to the lack of light and that's when I feel something nipping at my heal. "Ack! Get off!" I shake my foot but, whatever it is just not letting go. "Damnit! Get off!"

"Harm! Harm are you okay!" Mac's yelling from the living room as this rat from Hell is doing it's best to kill me. Between trying to whack it with a broom and it trying to gnaw me to death, I fall backwards landing hard on the floor. "Harm! What was that?"

Sitting up, I glance down at the offending critter and can't help but laugh. God this is one of those stories that you need to tell your friends about. "Nothing, Mac. . .It's okay, you can come here."

"You sure?" I hear her voice, closer than before. "Harm?"

"Yes, I am sure." Glancing towards the door, I see Mac come in and pierce me with an odd expression – a mixture of worry and surprise. I reach down and pick up the gray and white ball of fluff who is now trying to eat my shirt. "Happy Pre-Valentine's Day."

Mac comes down to her knees in front of me, extending a hand to pet the rambunctious Husky puppy. "Oh God, he's beautiful." The puppy immediately loves her and I do mean loves her. He ignores me completely and beings to bathe Mac in 'kisses' on any piece of flesh (mainly her face) which he can find. "Thank you, Harm" She leans in and kisses me and despite the sudden smell of doggy breath mixed with that perfume I gave her, I don't love her any less.

After enjoying a slightly burnt dinner and cleaning up, Mac and I are sitting on the sofa while the puppy is playing with an overturned box which it came in. "He needs a name." I say, already coming up with a good idea.

"Mmm, I think I have one." She says thoughtfully, while her hand continues to stroke my chest. I feel tingles all over my body when she does that. "But I want to hear yours."

"Rustle." I say, grinning at her as she turns to look at me with this completely baffled expression.

"Rustle?" By the way Mac's cutely scrunching up her nose, she doesn't like it. "Why Rustle?"

I point down at the puppy who is still in his box and smirk. "Well, he's rustling around in the box, so. . .Rustle." It's a good suggestion, isn't it?"

All I get is laughter. "Rustle because he's rustling around in the box? Harm you are INSANE."

Pretending to be offended, I shift slightly on the sofa. "Well, do you have something better?"

Of course she does, this is my Marine we're talking about. Always prepared, always ready to storm the beach. "Well, I was thinking about the way he attacked you. . ." She says, pausing to giggle indignantly. "Assassin."

What did she say? "Assassin?" She nods at me and I glance down at little Rustle. "You want to name him Assassin?"

Mac nods one more time, looking like a little girl who is afraid that agreeing will get her busted. "He is as sneaky as an Assassin and the way he attacked you. . . Assassin."

"Assassin?" Sighing, I stare down at ex-Rustle and shake my head. "Alright. . How about we put it to a vote?" I bend down slightly, "Rust-. . ."

Mac's whistling, cuts me off completely. "Assassin, here boy." Staring down I find him waggling his tail, his big blue eyes staring at Mac as if she were his mommy. "Come here boy." She coos and I am beside myself as the little thing comes over and rubs his fur against her legs. She lifts him up to her lap where he cuddles up. "See, he likes it."

"He likes you." And I am not going to inform her that I am suddenly jealous at a dog. I reach over to pet behind his ears when I hear the little hellion GROWLING at me. "Hey, woah. . . I thought we were buddies, Rustle?" Maybe, I shouldn't have called him that? He's now standing on Mac's lap, balancing between one leg and another as he barks as loud and as menacing as possible at me. "Okay, okay, Assassin it is! Sheesh!" Apparently, that seems to appease the puppy who is laying on Mac's lap once again. "But you're not sleeping on the bed with her, she's mine!" I say possessively only to laugh when Assassin barks in agreement.


	30. Absolutely Nothing

This came out of the blue, hope you like it.

Jackie :)

Part 30 – Absolutely Nothing

"Ugh."

I stare at him for a moment breaking into a big grin. I never thought Harm would look good in a Kilt, but, damn. . .those legs of his are just perfect for the outfit. The top makes his chest seem fuller, stronger. And even as he stands there with an aloof expression, all I can think about is that eternal question, "So, are you wearing anything under there?" I waggle my eyebrows up and down.

"Yes!" He yells, exasperated and clearly embarrassed as Jude, the tailor is working on fixing the hem. "Eh, can you watch your hands there, buddy?"

I bite back my laughter as much as possible and it comes out like a wheeze which catches both Jude and Harm's attention. "Sorry. . .dust."

"I assure you, ma'am, there is NO Dust in my store!" Jude yells, very offended and all I can do is roll my eyes inconspicuously.

So, what's all the hoopla about? Well, our dear old Admiral, well, retired Admiral, has finally decided to get hitched. In the time away from JAG he ventured all the way to Italy to, get this, find an AMERICAN woman to marry. Apparently, Amanda McIntyer, as her last name implies, is of Scottish heritage and as such, wanted to have a full blown wedding, kilt and all. Somehow, the thoughts of AJ Chegwidden in a kilt have me shuttering. Apparently, every man is to wear this thing, save for Bud because of his prosthetic.

Seeing as AJ has such beautiful land around his home in MacLean, it was decided to have the wedding on his property. Harm and I have been helping out, along with the rest of his former staff. Including a Petty Officer Coates who he assigned to be the coordinator of it all and is, as such, driving us mad.

Anyway, back to my boyfriend. "Does it have to BE so SHORT?" Harm glances at his legs, obviously repulsed at the idea of him in a skirt. I bite the urge to laugh again. Sorry, but something about him squirming is so damned cute.

Jude glares up at him. "Mr. Rabb, this is a Kilt and they are very specific in length. . .Now if you would PLEASE stop fidgeting. . You wouldn't want me to stick a needle in something that needles don't belong in, do you?"

Catching his drift Harm's eyebrows sail towards his hairline as his body goes ramrod straight, almost at attention. "Erm, no. . .no."

"I'm going to go check on Assassin." I tell Harm, fishing my cellphone out of my pocket as I stand to step outside. Jude has this positively ridiculous 'No Cellphone' rule. I mean, c'mon, this isn't a library. Stepping outside, I already have my fingers flying through the digits and wait patiently for Mattie to pick up. "Hey Mattie, it's Mac. . .how's the little one doing?"

("He's fine, Mac. . .We're playing right now." She beams over the line and I can hear Assassin barking in a happy sort of way. Yes, they do bark in happy sort of ways, sad sort of ways, they aren't much different from kids. I remember Jingo used to have a different bark and a different howl depending on his mood which surprised me thoroughly.)

"So I can hear. . .Put him on the line." I hear Mattie cooing at Assassin, then hear him sniffling the receiver. "Hey boy. .. How you doing? Is Auntie Mattie treating you good? Yea? You having fun?" I baby talk and hear him bark back at me, it's adorable really.

("He's doing good, Mac. . .How is Harm doing?")

We actually didn't know about the kilt thing until we got here, so, "Chegwidden's wedding is going to be traditionally Scottish, so, Harm has to wear a kilt." I hear Mattie burst out laughing. In our amusement, I barely noticed Harm, standing behind me, leaning against the door frame, dressed in civvies with a bag in hand. "Uh, Mattie, gotta go."

Indignantly, he raises a brow. "Having fun, Marine?"

"Yes." I say truthfully, then slip my arm around the crook of his as we head down the block.

Harm chuckles slightly and stops. "You do realize that we're going to look horrible?"

"Yep, I do, but our friend and former commanding officer wants us there."

" 'Cause, you know, you'd make a paper bag look hot but, THAT dress?" Harm cringes and totally has the right to. We're part of the wedding party and as such have to dress according to the specifications, blah blah blah. Well, yea, that's fine, except that the bridesmaid's dresses are like lime green, with these poofy things in the arms that make me look like I am about to take flight. On my back side, right over the butt area is this larger than life bow which drapes onto the floor. While trying it on, I stepped on it at least six times, Harm even had to catch me once.

The front of the dress has this whole corset-like bustier which makes your boobs look abnormally large. Now, that would be nice if the woman was an A cup, but, I'm not. I'm kinda voluptuous in that department. And, well, yea, okay, Harm liked that part until he realized he wouldn't be the only one seeing it. The area around the stomach is missing, meaning that you can SEE skin. The heels she expects us to wear are like three inch spikes and I can already see myself falling flat on my face.

Pouting, I stare at Harm. "So I didn't look good?"

Harm sighs, "Oh, you looked great, if you didn't look below your neck."

I can't help but laugh loudly at that one. For once, something that doesn't make a man look below my shoulders, go figure. "Liar, I saw you staring at my assets."

"Nope, I couldn't even SEE your 'assets', Mac. That damned bow was in the way." I smack him playfully and he just laughs right along with me. "But that busti-whatever. You might s well go in lingerie."

"Oh yea, I am sure Amanda would just LOVE that."

"I would."

I roll my eyes, course he would. "Anyway, you never did answer me. . .what do you wear under that kilt, flyboy?"

Blushing, Harm lowers his head down to mine and whispers. "Nothing, absolutely, nothing."

"Oh, boy." Well, at least, after the ceremony, it won't take me too long to strip those clothes off of him. "Well, they say that real men wear kilts, I guess this proves it."


	31. JAGged Haunts

I decided to change the dates a bit. Return To Me will Return To You tomorrow. ;) And today you get a Halloween edition of The Fine Art Of Dating which, ironically is chapter 13 of the story. Coool eh!

PART 31 – JAGged Haunts

It's Halloween weekend and I am sitting on Mac's sofa waiting for her to emerge. JAG is sponsoring some sort of Haunted House slash party type of thing and we are to attend. It's an adult only/no kids type of joint that, according to Harriet who is hosting the even (surprise, surprise) will scare the shi. . .I mean crap, out of you. A lazy grin spreads on my lips as I think of a frightened Mac crashing into my arms. And it's not that I can't get her into my arms anytime I want, but, alright, I have a hero complex, so sue me.

I shift uncomfortably as the rubber plate on my chest which makes my look like I have an extremely muscular chest, pokes me in certain places. "Ouch." Sighing, I glance towards her door. Nothing yet? "Mac, we're going to be late."

"No, we're not." Oh good god. Pinch me, I am dreaming. Forget dreaming, she's not going out wearing THAT! "Cat got your tongue?" She says in that cat that ate the canary type of tone with a look that I swear, could seduce a man at twenty paces.

I stand up, momentarily frozen by that skin tight black outfit. "You're not going out like that." I say flatly but rather than argue she just laughs. "It's not funny Mac, you might as well plaster USDA choice beef on your six."

Her lips do that upturn, trying to be cute, Mac thing and she closes the distance between us, placing her hands on my "fake" chest. Well, what else would you call it? "You afraid some other Superhero will snatch me away Batman?" I feel her hands move up the damned costume and towards the pointy ears which makes up the headdress of the modern Batman costume. Why is it that I find that sexy? "Because, that I know of Catwoman only has a thing for the Caped Crusader." She grins a bit and I am slightly wondering if she'll lick my lips in that cat kiss that Michelle Pfeiffer gave Michael Keaton in Batman Part 2. I mean, I am here, looking like a total moron and. . .oh whatever. "It'll be fine."

"I know it will." Yup, I am whipped and happily admit it. I take her hand and bring it up to my lips, kissing softly. "You do look good enough to eat, Mac." And just like that, my insecurity vanishes as I realize I am going to be the luckiest guy in the planet tonight. "Let's get going, it's a bitch to drive around with these pointy ear thingies hitting the ceiling of the car." She chuckles as I lead her out into the hallway and no doubt will laugh her cute little six off when she sees that I wasn't kidding about the costume issue.

When we arrive at the abandoned warehouse that Harriet procured, it takes me a good three minutes to extricate myself. I had to drive hunched down so that the ears don't tear off and as a result, need to fold myself OUT of the car. Mac tries to help me, but between her laughter and my own, it just took forever.

We flash our ID's at the poor Marine that has to work this evening and head on over to a tent with the word 'JAG' painted on some sign that made it look, slightly spooky.

The amount of people at the event completely takes me by surprise. Who knew people were still really into Tricks and Treats? "Wow, this place is packed." Mac says, trying to relinquish her hand from my grip, but it isn't working. "Harm, let go." She says nicely and I oblige as she elbows me in the chest which is, luckily, covered by the rubber thingy. "Hey guys!" Mac waves and I follow her through the crowd towards the table where our staff is seated.

"Commander, Colonel! Oh my God, you two look great." Harriet coos as I try to decipher what the hell she is wearing. It's something straight out of Alice In Wonderland, but completely morbid, with this evil looking makeup on her face and a bloodied meat cleaver that she is holding. It all makes me hope to God the kids didn't see her looking like this.

Bud comes up to us and for a brief moment I am wondering if the Roberts' got knocked over the head with some blunt object. He's dressed as the Cheshire cat, but in this really, creepy format, all bony and such that is just freaking ME out. "Commander! Colonel!" I mean, the only reason I know it's them is because of those. . .CHEERFUL tones they use when they speak. Maybe they really are just two odd individuals masquerading around as normal people. What's normal anyway?

Mac's grinning. Of course, she probably knows what their costumes are and I, as usual, don't have a clue. "American McGee's Alice?" Do what? Yup, now I am REALLY lost. Thank God this costume can hide most of my facial expressions. Well, it's not that it can HIDE them, it's just that I can barely make any it's so tight. "Chloe dressed up like her last year. I hear it's going to be made into a movie." Thankfully, my Marine. .. erm, Catwoman, is very intuitive. "It's a video game based on Alice In Wonderland, just very macabre. . .It's pretty cool, just. .. "

"Macabre?" I offer and she nods, grinning up at me. I sigh, okay so there are some things I am never going to get.

Taking a look towards our table I find Vic and, oh God, he's STILL with THAT woman! They are dressed like Tom Cruise from Risky Business (meaning, he's in a white shirt, underwear, socks and shades – I gag) and Barbie is dressed in that little pink number Rebecca Dewhatever wore. Hah! And people say I don't watch movies. "What the hell is Vukovic wearing?" I hear Mac say and grin.

"He's Joel and she's Lana from Risky Business." I hear Mac gag slightly then find her trying to roll her eyes. Really, couldn't these damned costumes be ANY tighter? Actually, I don't mind the tightness of hers. "Where's Sturg?"

"Right here buddy." He taps me on the shoulder and turning around I find him dressed like some sort of gangster and Varese like a 1950s show girl. I hafta say, they actually do look rather well. Sturgis eyes my costume all the way up to the ears and laughs. "Batman, huh? Always thought you were more like Superman."

Mac sighs. "He wouldn't wear the tights." I see Sturgis TRYING not to ogle Mac. Funny, Bud did the same thing. "Not that what he's wearing is much different. . ."

"It IS different." I whine, "This cape is larger and these are more like real pants. . .the other thing was hoisery all the way and I don't think so." And if she wants me to be Superman, fine, but in the bedroom only. Hmm. . .Kinky. .. Hmm, never mind. "So are we going to hit the Haunted House or what?"

Alice/Harriet nods. "Yup, but we're supposed to wait for General Creswell, something about him cutting the ribbon to the first annual. . .blah blah blah." Ah, yes, why is it that we have to make everything into a big deal around here? I doubt we're the first military group to put together a Halloween/Charity thing.

What I am actually surprised was that the General went for it and for that matter, the SECNAV, who I see passing by us, waving, wife on his arm. They are dressed like some sort of medieval king and queen. How fitting. When the General finally shows up, he is uncomfortably wrapped in gauze as his wife who came as a pair of mummies. After the ribbon cutting ceremony, we're the first group to be lead into the haunted house.

For some reason, unbeknownst to me, Mac and I are tossed up front. Correction, Mac is in front, I am behind her, holding her hips, then came Sturg and Varese, Bud and Harriet, Vic and Barbie, while the General and Mrs. Creswell brought up the rear. The outside part of the warehouse is decorated to make it look as if we're entering some sort of diabolical meat packing facility. I scrunch my nose at this and Mac, ever the clairvoyant, starts laughing. "I know what you're thinking, flyboy, just run with it."

"Hey! No Flyboy." I protest. "Tonight. .I am BATMAN!" I say, lowering my voice to this dark and dangerous tone I had practiced. I don't have much time to flirt with Mac as a second later we are ushered inside as a door slams loudly behind us. "Heheh, this is pretty cool." I say, keeping my hands on Mac's hips as we wait in the darkness, for SOMETHING to happen. And it does, in the form of this fog, no doubt from some fog machine and this green light that makes it glow and eerie green. From the right his huge TV comes alive with some ghoulish Tales From The Crypt looking guy telling us about the rules of the attraction and the fact that if we have a heart condition, we should step out. Also, that people will stalk, chase and touch you. Great. That's what I need, a bunch of weirdoes trying to touch us. At the end of the video, the Crypt Keeper insures us that it's all make-believe.

"_Or is it. Muahahahaaaaa!"_

I roll my eyes in amusement, then chuckle. How bad can a little old haunted house be? Huh? To the left this metal gate opens at its own will and we follow the eerie green fog that way. Mac's leading us, looking left and right, waiting for something to jump out at us. I full out expected it to be human, but no, as we enter what looks like a labyrinth, some sort of mechanical monster rips up the ceiling and stops about a foot short of clobbering my Batman ears. I guess I must have yelped or something because I find Mac turning to me with a raise brow. "Did you just yell?"

"Nope, that was me." Sturgis says, holding onto Varese in a way that is making me embarrassed to be his friend. "Can you keep moving?" I want to say something smug to him, but the moment I try to find the words, I hear Mac scream. Turning around, we come face to face with this sick looking ghoul, complete with chainsaw. He's trying to rile her up a bit more, but it really doesn't work, he got her once and that was all. I chuckle slightly, then point him towards Sturgis and Varese who both yell their heads off.

Chuckling, Mac and I lead ourselves through the maze, occasionally getting a slight fright as all sorts of monsters come out of secret holes in walls. Some sort of spider web touches her head and she turns to me with a look that would kill. "If I didn't have my head covered I would kill someone." Yep, and I believe it because I've seen how long it takes to fix her hair.

As we come out of the maze, having lost half of our party (Right now only Bud and Harriet are with us) we walk into the second room which looks, to my dismay, exactly like a meat packing plant, completely with blood covered walls, blood covered overalls and huge hunk of some sort of fake, bleeding farm animal. "Eww." I say, then quickly duck as the animal rolls on some track towards us, whacking Harriet, who proceeds to yelp. Bud is quickly trying to get her under control when the ghoul of the room walks in. He's some sort of Leatherface looking fellow, complete with chain saw which he uses to try and scare Mac. The jokes on him, she already saw him coming by the means of a strategically placed mirror on the ceiling which allows the actors to see when we poor souls have entered their realm.

Mac pats him on the back. "Nice try, but there are a few other in our group who you can totally freak out." She grins, instructing him to wait for the General, Vic and Sturg to come on by. She takes my hand and gleefully tugs me into the second room which looks, amusingly docile. Some of it reminds me of my bedroom at Grams' farmhou. . .Okay, what the hell is going to happen to us now? That ominous green fog starts to permeate the room and before we know it something starts to rattle the closet door.

She thinks that I don't notice, but Mac's come a lot closer to me than she was two seconds ago. Well. . .to be completely honest. . .Okay, so it was me coming closer to her! Okay, yes! I am slightly scared here! This whole setting reminds me of nightmares I used to have as a child of monsters coming out of the closet door. Hey, make-believe or not, I still can't sleep if the friggin' closet door isn't closed.

Finally, the rattling stops and as we're busy trying to figure out what's going to pop out at us, something sneaks up from behind, a ghoul with ragged clothing, chains which scares us out of our whit's. We scream. . .Well, I scream, Mac screeches and then we laugh nervously and quickly leave the area heading into the next room which looks like a cemetery.

From behind I hear people screaming, no doubt Bud, Harriet and the rest of our gang which we've completely lost. I keep my hand in Mac's as we have several creatures pop out at us. Most look like something that was coughed up from Michael Jackson's thriller video. The creatures run around, forcing us to run out of the cemetery in a fit of nervousness and giggles.

To enter the next room, we have to head in through these double doors only to be blasted by some heavy metal music which only makes you just that much more insane. Lights are shinning everywhere in various colors and slowly, very slowly, something starts to materialize in front of us. It's a clown.

Oh no.

Mac HATES clowns.

She shrikes loudly and I do mean LOUDLY and before I have a chance to do much, she's climbing on my back, hanging on to my shoulders. "Harm, get me the hell out of here!"

"Hey! Watch the ears!" I yell as I feel her hands heading that way. Really, I didn't think they would be THAT much of a problem! But this is the costume from hell!

"Will you get your six moving, Commander! That's an order!" I want to give her a reverse "I'm a Marine" convo, but she REALLY is freaking out. As fast as possible, I weave us through the maze that we are locked in. I can assume she's keeping her eyes closed as I don't hear her screaming. Finally, we're out of the clown maze and enter into, what has to be, the last room.

Course, I only know that because there is a big neon sign that says "LAST ROOM." I manage to put Mac down, who is apologizing profusely. "Harm, I didn't mean to jump on you like that but, uh. . ."

"Hey, it's alright. . .was kinda fun." Taking my hand again, she starts to lead us through the final section which looks like a deranged version of children's fairytales. "Harriet and Bud can fit in here with their costumes." She says, grinning as all sorts of characters pop up at us.

We get through the rest of the attraction without much issue, then step outside to wait for our gang who is taking and obscenely long time. I wrap my arms around Mac, holding her close for these few moments of peace we'll have tonight. "Did you have fun?"

"Save for the clowns, yes, it was great. .. It's fun to have a safe scare here and there." Course, I don't think our gang would say the same thing. Two seconds later the door opens up and out spills out Vic and Barbie. She's just yelling like a madwoman and Vic looks like he either wet himself or. .. no, I thing he just wet himself.

"Sir, ma'am." He rushes by us, running after Barbie who is running through the lot making a scene. I glance down at Mac who is giving me her patented. 'You dated THAT?' look.

It doesn't take too much longer for the rest of our friends to file out, all laughing and huffing and puffing from the fright fest. "We should do this next year." Harriet beams

"NO!" We all say at the same time, chuckling at her look of disappointment. "It was fun Harriet, but I think I am getting a little old for fright fests." The General says, holding a hand to his chest dramatically. Turning to us, he raises a brow in amusement. "Couldn't you two wait for the rest of us?"

Mac and I look at each other then back to our friends all who look a little. . .umm. . .ticked off. "Well, I ah. . .she. . .we. . ." I open and close my mouth a few times, trying to get some sort of intelligent sentence out which just does not work. Finally, I sigh, settling for. "Hey, Mac dragged me, I went. . .You know, Marines need to have their sixes watched by the Navy." Possessively, I tug her towards me giving her a cute grin as she glares me with that 'Stop being a Neanderthal' look.

The General sighs. "Rabb, just keep your hand on your own six until you leave tonight." He wisely offers his tip, patting me on the shoulder as he and his wife head towards the tent where a small party is going on.

Mac glances up at me and giggles. "Busted flyboy.. . .Uh, I mean, Batman." She uses that deep voice on me and as she saunters off, beckoning me to join with a sexy sway to her hips. Amazing, I wonder how they hell the General knew my hand had ventured towards her six. The world may never know.


	32. Let's Go Skydiving!

Return to Me will probably not be updated this week or It'll ahve ONE update. I have my Anatomy final on Friday and we have two tests before that. THANK GOD next month we start Swedish massage and will, I hope to God, not have to do much stuff other than learn the routines and techniques. Thus far, nothing has been easy, but I'm happy about it.

Have a good week!

Jackie

Part 32 – Let's Go Skydiving!

The loud racket this stupid plane is making as we step inside was enough to send the butterflies in my stomach into overdrive. Harm, ever the helpful male that he is, pats my six as we enter the plane. "Thanks, Harm. . .You're so helpful." I yell over the engines.

"Glad to be of service." He grins back at me and the two other men in our group glare at him, enviously so. Harm hops into the plane and takes a seat beside me right by the door. Despite that whole macho 'I'm not afraid of nothing' exterior, the moment I feel his fingers thread through my own, I get it – He's scared. "This is going to be fun!" He yells, then tightens his hold on my hand as the plane lurches forward and moves towards the tarmac.

It's been about a month since Harm suggested this little skydiving adventure. During that time we have jumped twice in tandem (Harm and I strapped on to OTHER, experienced divers) and then trained to do a solo jump which is what we are embarking on.

Sighing, I shut my eyes and lean my head back, the helmet shifting slightly. I remember how it started, in my apartment when Harm thought he was suggesting something nice and innocent. . .

-One Month Earlier-

"Let's go skydiving." It's midnight on Friday and I am laying on Harm's body as we lay together on my sofa watching a remake of some movie of some sort. I wasn't really paying too much attention to it. Forgive me if I am exhausted from a long week. . .Erm, what did he just say? "So?"

I manage to move up, pinning him with a look of utter shock. "What did you just say?"

"Let's. Go. Sky. Diving." He punctuates each word, making me feel a bit moronic at the same time. I know I am half asleep and, forgive me if I am wrong, but did Harm just suggest for us to go SKYDIVING? "I mean, tomorrow's going to be a beautiful day and an ex-squadron buddy of mine phoned me up. . .Apparently he has this company that . . ."

"Alrighty, let me get this straight. .." I cut him off, slide off his body and sit at the end of the sofa, suddenly wide awake. "You want to jump out of a plane FOR FUN?" I mean, I am not afraid of heights and if called to, I would jump off of Mount Fuji, but. . .for fun? He's insane! "Have you been sniffing too much jet fuel, flyboy?"

Harm grins, chuckles, then slides over to where I am. "It would be fun. . .I mean, the adrenaline rush of jumping out of a plane. . .It's totally cool."

"Totally cool?" Okay, he did NOT just say that JUMPING OUT OF A PLANE is TOTALLY COOL. What in the hell is wrong with him? "Harm." I begin trying to reason. "We've skydived before." I can practically hear the wheels turning in his head as he mulls that thought over. I mean, c'mon, he can't be THAT dense. "Baby, we EJECTED. . .In Russia, remember?" I do. . .I mean, one moment we're flying and I am praying to God I don't lose my kibbles and bit, next thing I know Harm's yelling that we need to punch out.

His eyebrow darts upwards as if were the oddest of comparisons. "Mac, this is different, this is safe. . .And we're not in Russia. It'll be great!"

"Safe? That's what you said before we went up in that MIG!" Alright, so his eagerness is starting to win me over. I know he wouldn't put me in danger if he could help it. A) I'd kill him and B) if something happened to me, the staff at JAG would kill him. Either way, it's a lose/lose situation for my sexy flyboy. Still, my mind flutters helplessly back to Russia. . Before taking our death defying flight, he'd given me the whole hoopla about safety and what to do _IF_ we had to eject. Heh. _IF,_ my ass!

We had to eject, I wind up one hundred feet away dazed, confused and thanking God that a bush broke my fall and prevented me from breaking my ankle. Harm, on the other hand, wound up in a tree, dangling, while a couple of Gypsies tried to steel the silk from his chute. That eagerness doesn't budge a bit and I watch, in awe, as he pulls out a stack of details an inch thick. "Here's all of the details along with the testimonials. . .They have a great record. . ." There's that word 'great' again. "Great credentials." Oh brother. "And a great staff." How many times is he going to say that? I swear, he sound like a commercial.

Nevertheless, I take the stack and page through it, my lawyerific brain sorting each detail and filing them away for later. When I get around to the actual brochure I see pictures of people actually HAVING FUN. They even have that vertical tunnel machine where it feels like your skydiving but you really aren't it's just the wind generated by a massive fan which pushes you up. "Oooh, I've been in one of these." I say with enthusiasm and clarify for the curious, sexy man who I know is about to ask. "When Chloe and I went to Orlando three years ago we hit their 'strip.' Chloe ended up coning me into taking her in that thing." I place a finger on the picture and grin. "It rocked my world."

Harm gives me this indignant, disgusted look and it's so cute I just want to kiss him. "You went in THAT thing but you won't jump out of a plane with me?"

"There's a difference. This thing is safe, skydiving. . .well, it isn't." He takes the inch thick packet away from me, frowning as he stands and heads towards the kitchen. I sigh, he's upset. So I follow. "Harm, hang on." I know I shouldn't give him an inch, I mean, I really DO NOT want to willingly JUMP out of a plane. There is something entirely wrong about that. And still, I recall the things that he's done for me, like going shoe shopping, lingerie shopping. Oh, and the lingerie shopping WAS fun, I tortured him the entire time. It's all of that which makes me. . .give in. . . a little. . .just a little. "Harm? Are you upset with me?"

From the cupboard he's pulled out two mugs and is proceeding to make. . .Oh my. . .Hot Chocolate. As he turns, it takes all my willpower NOT to chuckle. Oh brother, he's pouting. "No, it's fine. . .you don't want to go, we won't go. I've just. . .always wanted to, that's all."

Maybe it was the wafting smell of chocolate or that cute pout of his that turns me into jello, but, stupidly, I gave in. . .

That leads me back to the present.

I turn to look at Harm who, I swear to God, has turned green. He can't be getting airsick, can he? Wouldn't that be a hoot! "Alright, when that light turns green, it's time to jump." The owner of the flight school yells, pointing at these rather large red and green lights which are situated towards the front. When he opened the door and a woosh of wind ripples through us, it dawns on me – I'm going to jump out of a plane BY MY SELF. Sure, Harm will be there and so will two instructors and the two guys that trained with us. . .but, still. I'll be alone.

Harm squeezes my hand a few times then turns towards me. "I'm not sure I can do this." He states, face looking completely ashen.

"You've gotta be kidding me! You put me through all of this and now DON'T want to jump!" I yell back at him and notice that the light towards the front has turned green. Josh and Luke, the two students as well as Nick and James, the two instructors, eagerly rush towards the front, hooking themselves up to a line that runs inside of the plane.

He grins, this silly, cute, amazing grin, then hooks me and himself up. I've just been played. "Kidding, let's go!" Harm takes my arm, helping me up to my feet as he walks behind me, edging us closer to the edge of the door. "Ready?"

"As I'll ever be!" I yell back at him, taking one peak outside. God, we are insane! I take a deep breath and then jump, noting from the corner of my eye that Harm has headed out right after me. Good, I was half afraid he wouldn't.

I have to admit, this is exhilarating and. . .yes, I'm going to say it – GREAT! It's GREAT! "Maaaaaaaaaaaac!" I hear Harm yell as he flies by me.

Funny, didn't I call him Superman once? I use the training they gave us in order to propel myself towards him, careful to keep our distance as we are not exactly THAT well trained. "This is AWESOME!" I yell at him, doubting that he could hear as the wind rushes by us, or rather, we rush by the wind.

It's not too long before our freefall comes to an end and it's time to pull the ripcords. We do so, me a second apart from him and brace for the moment the chute opens up fully. We sail through the air and I am amazed at how wonderfully free I am feeling. Once I hit the ground, I see Harm running towards me, laughing. "Wasn't that AWESOME!"

He barrels into me, taking me into his arms and kissing me senseless. And I do mean senseless. To our right, the other members of our team gawk and issue catcalls as the kiss turns a bit more heated. "Harm, we're making a scene." I manage to pull away slightly and then feel my feet hit the ground beneath me.

Sheepishly, he shrugs. "Just a little excited is all."

"Excited?" I raise an eyebrow in amusement. "Harm, if you needed excitement, you could have just asked, we didn't have to jump out of a plane for it." I tease and he flushes about three different shades of red as he gets the excitement I'm talking about.

Together we grab up our gear and head back to the van that is waiting for us. "So." He starts, that grin just seems to be plastered to his face as of late. "When are we doing this again."

He's kidding me right? "How about never?" I offer in all seriousness. I mean, it was nice, it was cool, exhilarating. . .and yes, GREAT. It was GREAT! But, I still don't see the fun out of jumping out of planes ON PURPOSE. "Hey, don't look at me like that."

Instead of getting that Harmon Rabb Junior pout, he just shrugs and pulls me close. Very close. "Well, I guess we'll have to rely on YOUR kind of excitement, Marine." He waggles his eyebrows up and down suggestively.

"That, my dear, could be arranged. . .Anything is safer than this."

Harm chuckles. "Oh yea, tell that to my shins who are killing me from banging into your coffee table on the way to your bedroom last night." He snorts in disgust. "Or your foot after you stepped on the glass from the vase that we tipped over when the table fell. . .Or how about that time when. . ."

Alright, so nothing we do is one hundred percent safe, but, at least it's fun.


	33. What Have I Done To Deserve This?

Part 33 – What Have I Done To Deserve This?

"That's some trick outfit, buddy." I glance over at a blond haired, blue eyed gentleman who is about a foot taller than me, extremely muscular and is giving me THAT look. Yes, THAT look. Ugh, what have I done to deserve this?

I am sitting in JAIL of all places. Yes, JAIL, the slammer, the big house. Although, it's not the big house, merely a holding cell in the Georgetown district PD office. I'm still in uniform and that doesn't exactly make some of my cellmates very happy campers. No, if anything, it's making them rather. . .disgruntled.

In my little corner, I straighten, trying to show that I am every bit as cocky and self assured as I usually am. But, military uniforms don't work in these settings. I am so screwed.

Now, I guess it's a wonder how a guy like me ends up in here? Well, I've been in the brig before and even spent time in a little hole in the wall jail when a fight broke out in Bud's bachelor party. Glancing around, I notice that THIS hole in the wall jail is just as bad, if not worse. Back then, it was the three of us – The Admiral, Bud and I – now, I am alone with less than stellar company.

I guess. . .Well, no, I don't GUESS, I know this adventure had to do with little Assassin, Satan's Spawn Puppy from Hell. Yes, he's cute, small and my girlfriend loves him, but this all had to do with him! ALL OF IT!. . .

It started out two days ago when Mac was scheduled to fly to Leavenworth in order to interview a client. As a result, I was stuck taking care of Assassin and having so much needed time alone. While she was away, I had been instructed to head into a quaint little jewelry store in Georgetown and pick up her Marine Corps ring which had a problem with that jewel they put in the center. "Hello." Walking in, I was greeted by a little old lady, the name 'Joan' on her nametag.

"You must be Harmon, Commander Rabb?" She said with a grin, then reached under one of the counters and pulled out a box.

Now, I don't know her from Adam and I really had NO clue why she knew my name. "Uh, yea, umm . .How'd you know my name?"

"Sarah, dear. . .When she brought her ring a picture of the two of you slipped out of her wallet." But, there was something about the way she said it which made me feel it wasn't entirely true. "So, you are here to pick the ring up, yes?"

"Yes." I nod. Taking the box from her, I open it up, surprised to find an engagement ring instead of Mac's Marine Corps one. I studied the ring carefully, then placed it back down on the counter, chuckling. "Joan, there must be some mistake. . .This isn't Sarah's ring."

"Oh, my dear. . .I am so sorry." Playfully, she slaps her forehead, then bends under the counter producing another box. "This must be it. . .I may have mixed it with another Sarah." Again I open the box only to find, yet another engagement ring. I show this to Joan. "My heavens! I am so. . .so, sorry. This has NEVER happened to me before."

Once again she produces another box with the same results. We go through about six more boxes before Mac's ring makes it's appearance. "I am so, so, sorry."

"Yea, I'll bet." Just in case I pull Mac's ring out of the box and check the engraving on the inside, indeed finding her name. "Thank you, Joan."

She smiles kind of sadly and I guessed it had to do with her screw ups with the rings. "I am sorry for the inconvenience Commander Rabb. You'll be back again." That frown turned completely upside down and as I stepped away from the counter I found her beaming at me and I didn't know why.

Two days later, I decided to take Assassin for a walk. The two of us were getting chummy (if I had food) and the afternoon was nice to be outside. We ended up passing by Joan's little shop and for reasons unbeknownst to me, I picked Assassin up and walked right in. A young couple, probably in their very late teens or early twenties were discussing wedding plans, waiting while Joan sorted the boxes to find the rings.

Assassin moved slightly in my arms, then reached up and licked my face. "What's the matter boy? Want to go outsid?" If his growl was any indication, that was a no.

Turning to one of the counters behind me I saw a ring that was just out of place between the other jewels. It was simple, with a small diamond and a band of white gold. Elegant was the word that came to mind and, almost as if someone had hit a switch, I imagined Mac with it on. It would look beautiful on the hand that now bore her Corps ring. If she'd only say yes. "Elegant, isn't it?" Startled, I glanced up to find Joan grinning conspiringly. Without my asking, she takes the ring out and places it on the counter. "This is a one and a half carat stone with a heart shaped cut. The two stones on the sides are about a half carat, also heart shaped. It's simple, elegant and for a woman with slender fingers." I stare at the ring and am a complete loss for words.

I can't say I've never thought of marrying Mac, but we've been enjoying our time together too much for me to have given it too much thought. Until today. "It will fit Sarah's finger." I hear Joan say and snap my head up shooting her a hard, annoyed glare. Why do people always assume things? "You don't have to ask her yet, Commander. . .Keeping that in mind – things that are precious to you should never let slip away."

In the span of a mere ten seconds, I saw our lives flash before my eyes. We both have commitment issues, that's not a secret. Sometimes, I am scared we'd lose interest in each other. But, when she looks at me the way she does, God I feel like I am on fire. And I want that, every day for the rest of my life if I can get it. When I finally found my voice again it's to say one simple sentence. "I'll take it."

The ring cost a small fortune. There went getting new rims for the Corvette, but this was worth it. Well, worth it if she said yes. Which I am still not too sure she will.

Anyway, before heading home, Assassin and I wandered into a park with a fenced in area used for pets. I set him down, letting him run lose, noting that he was safe and we were alone. Taking that moment of solitude, I pulled out my purchase, staring at the ring with, what I figured, was a sappy expression. It really was elegant and the way the sun caught it was just. . . "Wow, that's some ring!" Startled, I turned around to find a young woman practically salivating. "If you come with it, your girl's one lucky bitch."

I raised a brown in annoyance. "Uh, I suppose." Glancing around, I spotted Assassin playing with another small dog which I imaged to be the woman's.

"Name's Gail." She takes my hand and shakes it then goes back to staring at the ring. "So, how much did it cost? I bet you blew a wad of cash, huh?"

"Something like that, yes." I tried sliding down the bench away from her, but she followed.

"So, I didn't catch your name." She was fishing, for what, I am not sure. I mean, if a guy is sitting around with an engagement ring, that pretty much screams 'off the market.' "I'm Gail."

Trying to be polite, I shook her hand again. "Harm."

"Well, you can HARM me any way you want, sweetie." She giggled (read: snorts), her head bopping up and down uncontrollably. When did I step into the twilight zone? Turning towards the dogs, she whistles rather loudly, blowing several parts of my ear out in the process. From her pocket, she produces those little doggie sausage treats and feeds one to her dog and one to Assassin. "Hope you don't mind. . .Isn't he cute! I'm going to call him Fluffles."

Fluffles! "His name is Assassin." Not that it mattered, she was clearly fresh out of the loony bin.

"Assassin?" Gail makes a face, a disgusted one. "No, Fluffles is nicer, isn't it honey?" Apparently, Assassin disagrees as a moment later he's barking his little head off and going for the kill. The pup attacks her heels and Gail starts, what I have to categorize as a banshee yell. "OH GOD! GET THAT LITTLE HELLION OFF! BAD BAD BOY!"

Trying not to laugh, I try to put the leash back on Assassin. And that's when it happened, when my world started to spin just a bit more out of control. By mistake, Gail kicked my hand and the engagement ring that I was holding flew through the air landing on one of the doggie sausages which spilled out of the woman's pockets. In my attempt to grab it before it hit the ground, I let go of Assassin who promptly went after the sausage and. . .he ate it. . .The sausage, the ring. . .He ate them both. "No!" I yelled, over Gail's insistent yelping. "No No No!" Coming to my knees, I pry Assassins mouth open to find. . .Nothing. "YOU SWALLOWED IT!"

Now, I know he's just a dog and doesn't know better, but at a time like that. . . "Oh God! I have to go." Grabbing Assassin, I literally sprinted out of the park and back to Mac's apartment. I sat Assassin up on the coffee table staring at him as I figured out what to do. He looks at me with his big, expressive eyes and then. . .burps. "Ewww! That's gross!" Standing up, I start pacing the room like a mad man. "Think Rabb, think."

Over her bedroom door I find one of my uniforms neatly pressed and freshly laundered. Since we got serious, we've decided to keep clothing at each other's places just in case. The uniform gives me an idea. That was probably the second mistake I made.

Uniformed and looking like every bit the responsible officer that I am, I decide to take Assassin to the nearest Vet. It's not long before this 30 year old, attractive woman (Dr. Graves) lets us in. "So, what's wrong with this cute little boy?" I assume she means Assassin.

"Well." Charming, I needed to try and be charming. "Assassin here swallowed. . .a piece of jewelry." I give her my best puppy dog look.

Alarmingly, she stares at me then takes out a stethoscope which she puts on his belly. Assassin, by the way, is just loving this. "Well, everything sounds like it's digesting alright. . .I want to do some X-Rays just to be sure."

The X-Rays take about thirty minutes and soon a happy Assassin is walking around the place as if he owns it. Dr. Graves lifts him up and places him on the examination table. "Alright, Commander. . .Assassin here is going to be fine. I'll prescribe a laxative and he should poop it right out."

The next words out of my mouth, would definitely be mistake number three. "POOP it out! He's going to POOP it out! That's disgusting!"

Dr. Graves seems annoyed. "Disgusting or not it's the only way."

"You can't like. . .reach on in there and get it; can you?" I did realize how bad that sounded and the words 'puppy abuse' are literally plastered on the Vet's face. Assassin, who I truly believe is trying to get rid of me to be alone with Mac, starts growling at me as he cowers away. "I umm. . . down boy?"

The Vet now looks pissed. . .and I mean PISSED. "He doesn't seem to like you, Commander." She pets Assassin, getting him to stop growling. Little traitor!

Reaching out, I try to ruffle his fur when he makes to bite me. "Hey! That's a bad boy!"

Oh yea, talk about digging yourself a grave. "Commander? I asked you a question?" She's practically holding Assassin away from me. Now, it probably didn't help that she'd found this welt on his tail which is a result of him biting it all the time. I mean, if he's bored, the only thing he does is bite his tail. How insane is that?

"Nothing! He just. . .doesn't like me." And Assassin, ever helpful, starts barking at me. . .LOUDLY. "Down boy!" Uh huh, but he just kept at it, adding a little snarling for the hell of it.

Dr. Graves motions over to her assistant. "Mary, get the ASPCA on the line, I think they might want to know about the COMMANDER here."

"ASPC-WHAT! I've never EVER hurt an animal!" I yell in defense, over Assassin's tantrum. He reminds me of AJ a couple years ago when all he would do is throw this horrible tantrums. And by AJ, I mean Roberts not Chegwidden. . .although. . .never mind.

Dr. Graves is holding Assassin almost like a mother trying to save a child. He's calming down now, but shivering all over. "It's obvious he's TERRIFIED of you!"

"He's not terrified, he's just a little bit of a brat who serves and protects my girlfriend! He even sleeps on the bed!" Hmm, I'm lucky they didn't add domestic dispute to the charges.

Alright, so, yes, I am jealous of Assassin, I mean, he takes the space between Mac and I in bed, growling if I reach out to touch her. When we make love, we have to close the door only to have him howling along. At my place, since there is no door, we had to buy one of those blockades to keep toddlers out which doesn't help. He bites on it and pulls it until the damned thing comes down. Once he'd done, since he's too small to jump on the bed, he sits there, crying and only wants Mac to pick him up. It's really annoying and cute in a way. I don't tell Dr. Graves any of this. "Really, Doctor, I am not a bad guy." That plea did not work.

As I was being handcuffed, I begged the woman to save his umm. . .poop. . I mean, I still need that ring. Dr. Graves wasn't buying it. "I can't throw it away, but I'll be sure to give it to your girlfriend when she arrives." There was a sick, sadistic look in her eyes when she said it.

"But, she. . .I. . . I haven't asked her yet! Please, don't. . .Please!" I was whining, full out, baby whining and it wasn't working.

"Sorry, Commander, you should have thought of that before you hurt this cute little puppy." And that, was that.

I tried to explain to the ASPCA about the occurrence and how I tended to put my foot into my mouth, say the wrong things. Needless to say, they didn't believe me, took a look at Assassin's behavior and locked me up.

My only phone call was to Mac, she was scheduled to arrive in a few hours and I figured it would be best not to bring the General into this. At least, not just yet. So, as I rot in jail waiting for my Marine to bail me out, I wonder just how badly things have gone. Dr. Graves decided to keep Assassin and Mac would have to pick him up. For sure, she's going to show her the ring and ruin it all. . .And all I can think is, "What have I done to deserve this?"

"That's the same thing I'm wondering." Glancing up from my spot I see Mac who's looking rather pissed off. Oh boy. . .

TO BE CONTINUED. . .


	34. What Did He Eat?

Firstly, thank you for all of the reviews! They are very much appreciated, I do try to get back to you guys, if I don't, don't take it personal, JAG Fanfiction is not the only thing I do. I have a life. . or so. . .you know? VERY sorry about the delay folks, the term BUSY doesn't even beging to describe my last couple of weeks. Folks were out of town and everything I wanted to do went to hell when the bossman also went out of town. Add to that one complicated week of schoolwork learning stuff that makes no relevance in our field of study and doing business plans, advertisement and stuffs for a fake business Tired Jackie.

For those reading Return To Me - That will update either oer the weekend or on Monday. Changed a few things, beta is going over it and once she's done, it will come up. Thanks for your patient and if you're not patient, neither am I, imagine how I feel not being about to do more than actual work and school stuff for two weeks!

Jackie

Sidenote: For those jumping all over me about Harm and Mac and that Mac is so mean for hurting poor defensless Harm, I don't want to hear it. Neither of them need anyone to defend them. They are both emotional idiots and if you so badly are a shipper and want them together stop bad mouthing one or the other, doesn't help your case, really. Also, if you don't like the story, don't review, all it does is make me want to piss you off more. Yes, I am this childish. Isn't life grand!

PART 34 - What Did He Eat?

Walking into the jail, I spot Harm sitting in the corner with a rather unruly group eyeing him. He glances up, making eye contact and giving me the most pathetic expression I've ever seen on a man. The type that screams 'Please don't kill me!' All of this is something like a slap in the face. The boys that are locked away with him get kinda rowdy when they see me walking in. The catcalls, whistles and growls are toned down when Officer Taye, which has walked in before me, threatens to bash their skulls in. His words literally. What a charmer.

"Rabb, front and center." Taye says, pointing at Harm who looks so completely out of place. He's wearing his Naval blues, looking every bit the officer and the gentleman amongst filthy, unshaven, toothless goons. For a moment I wonder if this is a joke and if it is I am not finding it funny.

'I'm sorry.' He mouths at me and for the life of me I can't come up with a single explanation as to why he is locked up. I know this has to be some kind of a mistake. I mean, Harm, in jail?

Alright, so it's NOT a novel idea, he's been locked up a few times before but. . .

In the middle of my thought process I neglect to move into the area where the holding cell is. As a result I feel a hand pat my backside. Spinning around I give my Marine death glare to the playboy reading (I'd caught him checking out Ms. November on the way in), pimple popping, teenaged looking cop behind me. "Officer Dimples (Yes, his last name was Dimples! And no, I can't say his name with a straight face.), if your hand just so grazes my six again, I am going to kick the DNA out of you." I know, you aren't supposed to speak to the police like that, but the little jerk had his hand on my ass! What the hell!

That gets a round of cheers and more catcalls which Officer Taye tries to calm down.

"Uh, sorry ma'am." Dimples relents. "Right this way." He stops in front of the cell and starts to go through the keys. "Alright, let's see what we've got here." The first key he tries doesn't work. "Hmmm, we'll just try another one."

Officer Taye, a man of few words, took a step towards the younger man. "Dimples, what the hell are you doing?"

"Finding the keys Larry."

This seems to upset Taye. "It's not LARRY. It's OFFICER TAYE, get that right, Gaylord!"

Gaylord Dimples? Raising a brow, I try to figure out what sick and twisted dimension I have entered. Furthermore, what loving parent would name a kid Gaylord! "Officers, hurry, please." I glance over at Harm giving him a sympathetic look but he still seems scared out of his wits and it's starting to worry me. Oh boy, what did he do now?

Officer Dimples, aka: Barney Fife, turns to me with a slightly scared expression. "Uh, I have the wrong key chain, I'll. . .uh, be back."

"Oh for Pete's sake, I'll go get them!" Aggravated, Taye passes by, hurrying out of the holding cell as I wait with Dimples.

Oh God, why me! What have I done! All I wanted to do was get home, shower, eat and crash into bed. Is that too much to ask after having the trip from hell? I swear, I am starting to feel claustrophobic and I so do NOT have that phobia! "Are you in the military?" Dimples asks with an aloof expression. Gee, you'd figure the uniform would give it away?

"No, I'm going to a costume party." I can't help the bitterness in my voice, but really, just give me my flyboy already!

Dimples grins. "Well, it looks pretty real."

"That's because it is! I'm a Marine Lieutenant Colonel. . .Now will you guys hurry." Jackass! I take it back, this kid makes Barney Fife look like a founding member of Mensa. "Hurry." I squeak out, less than pleased at this situation. A sudden headache starts to come from out of nowhere begging for me to massage my temples. With a frown, I glance up at Harm who is now holding onto the bars and being surprisingly quiet. "Hey sailor. You can tell me what happened in the car." I sigh softly, then lean back against the wall and close my eyes. I feel Dimples'eyes and those of all the other men except Harm's washing over me.

"You're not mad at me?" Harm says in this cute, scared little boy voice that makes me want to kiss the daylights out of him.

I pop an eye open. Has he lost his mind! "No, should I be?"

"I thought you'd want to kill me." He says almost as if it were a passing thought. For a brief moment, I get a hint of that flyboy grin, which goes away as Taye returns.

We gather his belongings, sign several documents and step outside. Harm places his cover on and I swear the whole uniform just gives him this air of importance, it's amusing. He takes two steps away from me then stops. "So, you're not going to kill me?"

"What fun would that be?" I grin but, he doesn't seem amused. No, the flyboy looks SCARED. "What?"

He crosses his arms across his chest and steps back once, glancing down at the ground. "You're not even slightly mad?"

"Well, I'm upset that I had to come down here. . .Well, more worried than upset. . .First thing that came to mind was Palmer." I frown. Honestly, it is what came to mind, Harm trapped in jail and that sleezeball Palmer having something to do with it. Or it being a trick and Palmer trying to set both Harm and I up. Yes, I know, inviting trouble, melodramatic. I agree, yes.

"I'm sorry, Mac."

"You don't have to be sorry, flyboy, just tell me what the hell happened."

I lean against the Corvette and for a good twenty minutes and twenty six seconds, Harm rambles. As far as I can decipher, it's something about an adventure with him and Assassin. The story ends with him explaining how he had to take Assassin to the vet because he ate something and as a result of him sticking his foot in his mouth (Harm's words not mine!) the doctor thought she was abusing our puppy.

Woah, did he say Assassin ATE something! "Woah, woah. . .simmer down. What did he eat?" I can practically see the wheels turning in his head. He gives me this completely helpless looking expression. For crying out loud it can't be THAT bad can it? "Harm?" You know, maybe I don't want to know.

"Your ring." He croaks out making it sound as if it's the most devastating thing to happen in this world.

I couldn't help the warm feeling I have inside. A feeling that tells me it wasn't just a ring, it was something in the form of a commitment. "My ring?" I know I am smirking now, but I can't help it. . . Being Mrs. Harmon Rabb Junior would just be icing on the cake.

"Yea your ummm Marine Corps ring. . .I was sitting at the park. . .checking it and. . .anyway, he ate it."

Always a bridesmaid, never the bride. Using all the strength possible, I manage not to look too depressed that it's just my Corps ring. "It's alright. . .things happen." I sigh dramatically and wave him towards the car. "C'mon, Harm, it's getting late and we have to go pick Assassin up."

He takes two steps towards the car and comes to a complete stop. "We? Oh no, no, no. . .I'm not going back there, that woman hates me."

I give him an unlady like snort as I push the transmitter's button to unlock the car. "Oh, don't worry about her. That bitch's got it coming if she messed with my guy and my puppy." It's true, I mean, how could anyone think Harm would hurt a defenseless animal!

Harm raises a brow and leans against the top of the car. "That bitch? Mac you don't even know her."

"Semantics, my dear, semantics. . .Now get your six in the car, Commander."

We travel for exactly six minutes and during the hole time I find my boyfriend being rather. . .jittery. "You alright?"

"Yea, I'm fine." He lies. I mean, seriously, he's lying. His mouth is doing an upturn thing.

I ignore the lie for a moment, then sigh. Things with Assassin haven't exactly been a picnic. While I love the puppy, it's obvious that he and Harm aren't buddies. "Assassin and you don't get along." I toss out into the waters, wondering if he agrees or if he will be pig headed about it.

"It's not that I haven't tried, Mac."

"I know you have, I wasn't questioning that. . .Maybe. . .I don't know? Maybe we should give him up?. . .I mean, I love the little guy but, I don't want us to be uncomfortable because of his obvious dislike of all things Rabb." Assassin even chewed up Harm's hundred dollar tennis shoes and this cute stuffed bear that Harm bought one day.

Harm chuckles then sobers slightly. He seems to be considering my proposition to give up Assassin. "No, Mac. . .I don't want to get rid of Assassin. . .We bonded pretty well over the weekend. . .This was just a little mishap. . ." Mishap? Oh yea, sure. "I mean, there are other methods. . .I saw that pet psychic thing on TV."

"Pet psychic?" Did he just say Pet Psychic! Alright, who are you and what have you done with my Rabb? "You said that didn't you? I wasn't floating into an alternate universe?"

He chuckled again, this time it's warm and rich and inviting. "Yup, sure did. . .I caught some things on that pet network channel thing."

"Animal Planet." I clarify. No matter how much TV I subject the man to, he never gets the name of any show or actress or actor. "And you're serious?"

"Of course I am. . .Would be cool to know what the little guy thinks about you and me."

We don't need a psychic for that. Assassin loves me and despises Harm. Actually, I don't think he despises Harm, I think he's jealous. He even howls his lungs off when Harm and I make love. It was funny at first, but around the third time, we had to turn the radio up.

Before long we are at the Vet's office and I am charging inside. I locate Dr. Graves standing behind the counter, writing on some sort of chart. "Dr. Graves, I am Lieutenant Colonel Sarah MacKenzie here to pick up Assassin." I can't help it if I have a rank that sounds so cool and strong and powerful. Nor can I help it that I use it whenever I need to sound cool and strong and powerful.

Dr. Graves looks up from her charting and gives me, what I can only define as a look of disgust which grows once she sees Harm. "What's he doing here?"

"Commander Rabb." I stress his rank for clarification. "Is my boyfriend. . .I understand you and he had a little misunderstanding."

"It wasn't a misunderstanding, the puppy is clearly afraid of Mr. Rabb."

"Commander Rabb." I stress yet again. "And yes, Assassin seems to get jealous around the Commander."

Graves raises a brow then turns to Harm with a sick expression. "Did he tell you what occurred?"

"He did." Well, he did!

"In detail?"

"Yes. . .I know about the ring Assassin ate and it's fine. . .I am sure he'll just expel it."

Graves nods. "He already has. I cleaned it up and put it in a box for you. . .Beautiful ring."

"I know." I take a glance over at Harm and find him to be PALE. And I mean PALE. He looks like he's about to pass out. "You alright?"

Harm clears his throat. "Umm. . .Yes, fine."

Graves rolls her eyes at us and I am slightly tempted to use some Marine death tactic. "Look, I spoke to your. . .boss or whatever you call him. . .He seems to think you two are a nice pair, wouldn't hurt animals. . .So he won't press any charges and since you're under his jurisdiction there isn't much I can do about it." I had made a point of calling Cresswell on behalf of Harm so that he could run interference, yes, I realize I will now owe the man until the day I die.

It takes her about five minutes to get Assassin out of the cage he was put in. Assassin doesn't do cages very well, I bought one at first so that I could, maybe, take him into work. Uh, no. . .He gnaws at it, barks at it, rips everything inside the cage to shreds and as I stand behind the counter watching her struggle, I can't help but chuckle. The little guy raises his leg and does his business all over Graves' shoes. Gotta love him. For good measure, Assassin then decides to start snarling and barking. It's cute really, I mean, he's pretty small so all of that menacing attitude combined with a small, puppy body and a small puppy timbre is just hysterical. "Well, he's barking at _you_ now, doctor. . .Am I to assume you hurt him as well?" I can't help the sardonic smile that spreads on my lips. I mean, that was just too easy.

Harm is also laughing, using his cover to block his face as he does so. I see Graves' assistant stepping out with a box that is inside a plastic baggy, indicating to me that it's my ring. Harm quickly takes the package and shoves it into his breast pocket. "Considering where it came from, I'm just going to make sure it's clean, Mac. . .Don't want you to go through more trouble than you have." He gives me this overly sweet Rabb look that melts me. I mean, how cute is that!

"HELP!" Turning to the side, we find Graves standing in the corner with Assassin now biting the pant leg.

"Get this abomination away from me!"

"Hey!" Harm yells, jumping over the counter and landing on the other side like a cat. Can I tell you how cool that looked? "He's not an abomination, Doctor. He's part of the family! C'mere boy." He gets down on one knee, reaching his hand out towards Assassin. I cringe slightly, about to tell him that it isn't a good idea when Assassin stops harassing the good doctor and runs over to him, jumping into his arms. "Good boy."

Alright, I am shocked. . .Completely shocked. Assassin is now bathing Harm in little puppy kisses. I chuckle at the scene, who knew it took some adventure to get my two boys to bond? "Let's get out of here. Thank you for your assistance doctor." I say with a grin and walk away with our little family.


	35. The Pet Psychic

PART 35 – The Pet Psychic

"Oh my God!" I hear a very loud, very feminine squeal coming out of my bedroom. Worried, I cast a look towards the general vicinity and that's when I remember. The Ring. No, not the movie, but THE RING. Mac's engagement ring! I was staring at it until late last night and forgot to put it away. Damnit!

Quickly, I head out of the kitchen and literally leap up the two steps to my room. "Uh, it's not what you think." Right, the ring is really for me and I like frilly little things. I snort. "I mean. . .Well, maybe it is what you think." She throws herself at me, giving this savage hug which nearly topples us into the louvered windows. "Woah, I guess you're happy?"

When I finally set her down, Mattie has a grin that goes from ear to ear and is nodding like some deranged bubblehead doll. "Oh, God. . .Harm! This is great!" Three. Two. One. "When are you going to ask her?"

Mattie's holding the box so carefully it's almost as if she were holding a porcelain doll. Wow, chics really are into this whole wedding thing and from such a young age. Guys? Marriage? Uh, no, not really. Alright, so I've had my romantic or romant-ICK – fantasies about Mac and Marriage and the two point whatever kids – I never understood that, how can you have point whatever kids? – anyway – I have, but, to be honest, I don't like dream about it. I sigh. Alright, I do. "I'm not sure, Mats."

I take the box from Mattie and sit on the end of the bed as I stare at it for the umpteenth time. It's a gorgeous ring and – I think – so Mac. But, what if I'm wrong, what if this is. . .just this. "What do you mean, you're not sure?"

I shrug hating that Mattie and I have had some of the most in depth conversations ever and I can't seem to speak without sounding like a moron in front of my best friend – the woman I love. "What if. . .What if it doesn't work out? What if I'm not the one for her and. . .Ugh. . ."

Mattie places a hand on my back and starts to run circles. God, I feel like such a kid again and I don't mean that in the good sense. "Harm, that's part of the fun. . .Being unsure. Trust me, she'll say yes."

"And you know that how?"

She shrugs. "A woman knows these things." A conspiring grin spreads across her lips and suddenly, really, I am worried. She's going to try to ask Mac for me. "You know. . ."

"No."

"But."

"Nooo."

"Harm, I mean if I just. . ."

"Nooooo."

"I could find. . ."

"Mattie? Harm?" ACK! It's Mac! Quickly I shove the box down my jean pocket and stand up as she makes it up the steps to my bedroom. Damn, shouldn't have given her the key. Standing next to her, in all of his cockiness is Assassin. "Why do you two look like the cat that ate the canary?"

Because we did? "Hey babe." I say, then move over to her, giving her a sweet kiss and saving the good stuff for later when Mattie goes out with Jen. Next, she and Mattie exchange pleasantries and before long the three of us are sitting in the living room watching some Sci Fi movie and waiting for the pet psychic.

Yes, PET PSYCHIC. I wasn't joking about that, we managed to find one here in DC.

"This is a straaaaaaaange movie." Mattie says, chewing on another kernel of popcorn and tossing one to Assassin who catches it in midair. "You believe in that Bermuda Triangle mumbo jumbo?"

Mac and I share a knowing glance.

"Yes."

"No."

We answer at the same time, both shocked and amused that we didn't agree. "You believe in the Bermuda Triangle, Mac? You were such a skeptic before."

She shrugs. "Yea, well, after finding you in the middle of the ocean, I am up to interpretation. . .Who knows what's out there." Her eyes go back to one of the guys in the movie who she and Mattie have declared 'hot.' I've learned, long ago, not to bother changing their mind about things like that.

"She kinda looks like you." I point at the brown eyed, sexy as sin, brunette who's some scientist, and the only girl in their little research group. And I swear, she does look like Mac.

Mac cocks her head to the side and shakes her head. "Naw, don't see the resemblance. . .She's way cuter than I am."

I nearly choke on the water I am drinking. "You're kidding me, right!"

A knock on the door ends that discussion and Mattie flips off the TV with a sigh. "I'll go get it." Once she opens the door in steps one of the oddest people I have ever seen in my life. The woman that walks in has pale skin with these pale, yet piercing blue eyes. Dark black, wavy hair rests over her shoulders and the outfit that she is wearing looks like a revival of some Stevie Nicks dress from the eighties. It's very flowy, colorful with hanging beads and sequins. The woman can't be more than thirty, I surmise as she exchanges pleasantries with Mattie.

"Dr. Noxema Dingleberry, dear." The woman says, shaking Mattie's hand as she comes towards Mac and I. "Hello, you must be Commander Rabb and Colonel MacKenzie and this must be little Assassin." She reaches out to touch the puppy and nearly gets her finger taken off.

"Assassin, no!" Mac snaps, then proceeds to apologies profusely.

Dr. Dingleberry just laughs. "Oh, it's alright, dear, we'll just try to see what's bothering him. . .Ah, perfect." She says, pointing towards the sofa. "Alright, Commander and Colonel, please sit on either side of me and place Assassin on the coffee table. . .This young lady can sit on the chair across from us."

We all take our places and Dingleberry starts some sort of chant of unknown dialect. Somehow, it seems to actually lull Assassin into, what I am choosing to call, a false sense of security. I stare over at Mattie who's looking at me as if I've gone crazy. Well, maybe I have. I shift suddenly when I notice the box in my pocket has slid out I try, in vain, to shove it back in catching Mac's attention. 'Stop it.' She mouths and I nod enthusiastically as I give it another shove. It's not in all the way, but it will do, if we don't make any sudden movements that is.

"Ooooooooommmm." Dr. Dingleberry stops the chant then leans forward, placing her hands on Assassin. Good luck buddy! Better you than me! "Oooh. . .Hmmm. . .Really?" Sitting back, she starts to laugh hysterically as Mac and I share a look. "Hmmm. . .Seems like the little one here was angry with you, Commander?"

Angry? "Er, about?"

"Oh, you took him away from his friends in the pound. . He was very upset about that until he saw the Colonel." Dingleberry grins. "He thinks of her as his mommy, isn't that precious?"

Oh yea, adorable. I roll my eyes slightly. "Why did he keep attacking me?"

She sighs dramatically. "Very simple, Commander, he thought you were going to take him away from the Colonel. And was doing everything in his power to do that until the ring incident." She stays silent for a while and I swear to God I go pale. . .Very pale. So does Mattie and Mac for that matter. "Oh, that's quite a story." Dingleberry laughs. "Assassin didn't like the Vet very much, she was too smothering."

"Somehow smothering was not the impression I got." Mac says with a snort, then leans over to Assassin. "Is there anything else that he doesn't like, something that we do wrong?"

Dingleberry turns a few shades of red. "Yes. . .uh, yes. . .He thanks you for turning music on when you two. ..uh. . .mate."

Mate! Over on her side, Mattie spits out the water she was drinking wetting all of us. "Sorry. . .I'll just, ah. . .yea." She walks away towards the kitchen mumbling something about 'Don't ask, don't tell.' Along with something about a 'mental picture.' And I guess it's true that no kid wants to know about their parents getting it on.

"Sorry about that. . .erm, I was using Assassin's terminology." With a sigh, she changes her hand position on Assassin and then bursts out laughing. "Mattie?" She looks over at my ward who is in the kitchen. "He says he likes you but that he will not forgive you if you give him a. . .meatless. . ."

"Meatloaf." The three of us say, dejectedly, in unison. Alright, so I had to try it ONE MORE TIME just to see if it was as bad as Mac said it was. Now, I am not admitting this to Mac or Mattie or Assassin, but, Mac was right all those years ago. Meatless Meatloaf sucks. Yes, Mac is converting me into some sort of meat eater. I'm officially eating more chicken and leaving some tofu behind. Can't say I feel any worse for wear either.

"Assassin would like to say that he is especially happy that he got to go on a shopping excursion with the Commander. . .He really loves the ring and he is sorry that he ate it but he didn't know it was in the treat he had."

Mac perks up, I mean, literally PERKS UP. "Ring?" That's when she remembers my version of the story. "Oh, my Marine Corps ring." She extends her hand over to Assassin who looks away, seemingly uninterested.

Dingleberry shakes her head. "Uh, no. . .No, it's another ring, really pretty. . .shiny and it has a hear. ."

"Assassin!" I say, then reach over and pet him wildly. "You weren't supposed to tell Mac about that!" I admonish with a sigh. "There was this pretty ring with an 'S' on it and I was going to get it for Christmas, but now that he's let the cat out of the bag."

I hear Mattie choking over by the kitchen, between which the words 'chicken' come out clearly. I glare at her and she glares back then finally gives in. "Well, guess you'll have to get her the earrings then." She tosses in with a wave of her hand then mouthing 'dork.'

'Thanks.' I mouth back and sigh. This is going to be difficult. "Anything else?" I am now anxious to get this woman out of here!

Dingleberry settles back into the sofa and just stares at Assassin who is staring back. "Umm. . .He wishes to apologize for getting the Commander in trouble and he would not do that again. . .Also, the food you have gives him gas and he's torn through three of your favorite pumps, Colonel."

Mac's jaw drops. "My pumps? Why!" I never understand what the fascination is with dogs and shoes? I mean, ick!

"Yes, dear. . .Apparently he was hoping that you would blame the Commander." She says and we all share a good laugh at Assassin's expense. I guess he hasn't figured out that humans don't eat shoes. . .Well, most of us don't anyway. Clapping her hands loudly, Dr. Dingleberry stands. "Alright, it's complete, I suggest we do another session in a year or so, just to see how things are. . .Now give me your hands."

Mattie joins Mac, Dingleberry and I in a circle that we make around the coffee table. "Close your eyes." She instructs and I pick that particular moment to shift slightly, again the box moves along with me and ends up, you guessed it, falling out of my pocket and onto the floor. Thank God, it fell on the section where there is an area rug. "Thank you Lord for giving us this moment to speak with one of your creatures. . ." The rest is lost on me as I try, with one eye half open to not move around so much as I use my foot to grab at the box. I nearly fall forward, but do manage to shove it under the sofa and away from prying eyes. "You alright, Commander?"

I nod. "Yea, just uh. . .lost my balance." Mattie, Mac and Assassin are all staring at me as if I've lost my mind. "Are we done?" She nods and I fish around my pocket, pulling out one hundred bucks. "Thank you so much, Dr. Dingleberry."

We walk her to the door and just as she's about to step out, she moves close to me and whispers in my ear. "Assassin wants you to give her the ring on Christmas, Commander." She winks knowingly at me and then vanishes into the elevator.

As I turn and close the door, Mac shakes her head. "What was that about?"

"Nothing."

"Liar." She says, cheekily, then wraps her arms around me. "Any luck in me getting that ring for Christmas?"

"Ring?" I pale, God did she overhear. .. No, no, Rabb! She's talking about the 'fake' one. Yea, right. Hehehe. Oh Lord. "If you behave, _maybe._ . .But I've never thought you were the materialistic type."

Mac lets me go with a chuckle. "I'm not. . .You could give me a ring out of a cracker jack box and I'd wear that as if it were an engage. .uh. . .a umm . .an expensive one." She smiles shyly, then points at the TV. "Look, that girl you like is on. . .She so does not look like me."

"Yes, she does." I point out, catching completely how she caught herself. So, Sarah MacKenzie wants me to propose does she? Well, she'll have to wait. I take a deep breath and let it out in relief. Maybe Assassin's idea isn't such a bad one? Proposal at Christmas. I grin. "I like the sound of that."

"Sound of what?" Mattie and Mac ask at the same time. In due time, Marine. In due time.


	36. Our Christmas Eve Adventure

Gang! Hello! Well, I promised myself an X-mas edition and that is what youa  
re getting. THere is a second part to this one and they will get to their  
destination. These two will probably be the only not so funny ones and are  
more of the romantic types.

Happy Holidays and I will try my best to get Part 37 BEFORE Christmas. :)

Enjoy!  
Jackie

Thanks to: e-dog, Macaroon, BeachChick, Dessler, dansingwolf, Maria, blueangel, Vrbinka, BiteBeccy, SarahRabb, my.evian, anna, Jaggie107, snugglebug, Manda, Lisa, cbw, Xblue, froggy, aserene, crazybum, VrbinkaCZE, sally, trooper, starryeyes, Martini, NavyBabe, jaggurl, Nix, joanoa, jagdreamer, Kinga, JAGChic, Jagfan 724, littlemaccyd, ninjaturtle, blueangel, Kinga, JK, zoomie, myevian, CathyF, CBW, jagdreamer, joanoa, alix33, arian, Lurkz, LiseGirardi, Beach chickJASSNL, Tracy, Lisa, roz, Peggy, Elizabeth Ayers, Disaster Child, trooper, LtCmdrFlygirl, Roz, Peggy, KJFlygirl, Roxie, ltcolonelnijgagrl, hellen, Jill, Kyizi, Broesel, blueangel, Rocket Rain, Ashley E, Sunset, Cristina, mp111275, SarahRabb705, Brooke, Odakota, daisymh, JeanMary,janlaw, bluejay, mari217, bookworm, papillon ephemere, Shan/JJ, Nikke,and mizukimar for the feedback :)

Part 36 – Our Christmas Eve Adventure

"Yes, sir. . .Of course. . .Yes, Colonel. . .Uh. . .Well. . .Yes." Colonel? As I step into Harm's apartment, I am slightly put off by the whole (or half) conversation I am hearing. Please, oh please, oh please, please, please do not let Harm work this Christmas. Please! It's the only thing I want. I mean, I've been a good girl, save for a few closet adventures that I stupidly embarked on with him. I don't care if I don't get any candy canes, or if my stockings have coal as long as I have a sexy sailor in my bed when I wake up tomorrow morning. "Oh, I will, I can promise you that, sir. . .Oh, and Colonel? Thank you. . .Thank you very much. You just made my Christmas."

I tune out the rest of the conversation and drift on over to the living room where Harm's bags are placed on the sofa. I just KNOW my present is in there. Grinning smugly, I remember the conversation we had a week or so ago when we'd agreed to venture out of Washington for Christmas this year. Mattie would be with her father and his new girlfriend. Bud and Harriet were taking the kids to Naples, Florida since it had been about a year since they last saw their grandparents. Sturgis and Varese were heading to California so that he would visit her parents. Creswell was staying home with the family and Vic. . .well, I don't care much what he's doing as long as he's not doing it with us and doesn't give us details afterwards.

The man actually had the nerve to come up to Harm during lunch on Tuesday to ask him what type of tawdry little things Barbie (ugh, yes, they are still together) liked to wear to bed. I swear, I thought Harm was going to throttle Vic, the man has the patience of a saint. Vic didn't believe Harm when he said he'd never been _that _close to the woman and that's his problem because _I_ believe the flyboy one hundred percent. "Hey, stay out of that bag, Marine!" Harm barks out and I snap to attention.

"Sorry, sir. . .Just. . .Well, I was just." My back is to him, so I can't tell his expression at the moment, but I know he's smiling. I feel him getting closer as the little hairs on the back of my neck start to tense up and so does the rest of me. I expect him to place a kiss on my shoulder, but he doesn't and chooses to come around me, standing toe to toe like a drill instructor and me his trainee. Oh, instruct me baby, instruct me! Ahem, anyway.

"MacKenzie, I know what you were doing and that is a black mark in my book." He keeps that commanding tone, his voice trying to remain stern and impassive, but he's failing miserably as I notice the side of his mouth fight off a twitch. "Now, what sort of punishment shall I work out for you?"

I raise my eyebrow slightly and I couldn't help it. . .My ideas of punishment are rather of the risqué and fun types. "Did I tell you to eyeball me, MacKenzie?"

"Sir, no, sir." I bark out, wanting to explain that this game was really getting old and if his lips didn't meet mine in two seconds flat he was toast.

He's standing right in front of me now, his lips so damned close that I have to fight myself not to attack him. Damn the squid. "Personally, the only thing I want to do right now is kiss the daylights out of you."

"Sir, yes, sir." I agree with a nod and let my Commander make the first move. As usual, the kiss gets way out of hand before either of us have a chance to stop it. By 'out of hand' I mean his hand is on my six and mine is somewhere under his shirt. I pull away, chuckling as he groans at the lack of contact. "Ready to go?"

Oh, yes, I forgot to mention, since no one will be around, I had the bright idea to head out this year. For a whole weekend we fought about where we wanted to go. Harm thought about heading to Florida and hitting the beaches. Yea, like that's really Christmasish! Nothing says Christmas like Santa Clause in sandals, Bermudas, a flowery shirt holding a fruity drink while leaning against a palm tree. That idea was tossed out rather quickly. I suggested a Bed and Breakfast and that got the Sailor moving. He called about three different friends before he settled on an idea of Bud's.

Yes, BUD ROBERTS. Seeing as Bud's idea of a romantic weekend is him and Harriet at a Star Trek convention dressed as. . .those characters with pointy ears. I was worried. In the end it came down to two places. A cabin for two, by the lake on the Eastern Coast of Virginia or a Bed and Breakfast overlooking the ocean in Maine. Since Maine is still a few States away, Virginia was the winner. Neither Harm nor I were off until December 23 so we decided to head out in the daytime on Christmas Eve so that we could buy a tree in the little Village the cabin was situated in as well as pick up groceries and other necessities. Assassin would stay in the care of Cresswell and his wife who wanted to 'try things out' with a dog before getting another. Uh huh, good luck with that.

"Yup, just let me get my jacket, gloves and scarf and we'll be on our way." I reminded him that before leaving we needed to head to the Wall, I know I'd feel terrible if he didn't go visit his father because he was spending time with me. He goes up the steps to his bedroom and comes down two seconds later. "This is going to be nice, huh?"

"I'm hoping so." But, knowing Harm and I, something will happen like we get stuck in the Cabin's closet and end up having to wait until Spring's thaw for someone to get us out. I give him a peck on the cheek and head for the door, holding it open as he grabs his bags and trots on after me. Taking his keys I turn all of the zillion and two locks that he has. – Ever since I've been staying over more often, the man had decided to barricade the door like he did in my apartment. I mean, c'mon, I am a Marine! Alright, so the locks aren't Vic proof, but. . .oh, whatever. - "I hope it snows sometime this weekend. It'd be nice to have a white Christmas." I'll have to agree.

When we arrive at the Wall, I stay behind, choosing to walk down and way from Harm so that he could have a silent moment with his father. I turn to him for a brief moment to find Harm with his head cast down and a gloveless hand pressed against the marble. Even after knowing the truth, I know it still pains him and it always will. All I can do is be there for him and I will.

Bringing his head up, he smiles brightly and then beckons me over with his finger. When I am next to him, his hand takes mine. Harm slips one of my gloves off then presses my fingers against his father's name. Under his breath he says a thing or two, things that I can't hear and don't question, maybe I should have?

Harm keeps my hand in his as we head towards the parking lot and into his SUV. "It's freezing today." I comment then look up to the skies to see dark clouds rolling in. "We may just get that white Christmas after all."

Finally, we hop on the freeway and move out of the city to the more rural sections of Virginia. I sigh happily as I stare out of the window. It's then that a thought occurs to me. "Harm?"

"Yeah, babe?" Babe. I grin. I love it when he calls me that.

Ahem. "Umm, who were you talking to when I walked in?" I turn to him and raise a brow, waiting for an answer.

All I get is a confused, "What?"

Hmm. "Well, I walked into your place and hear you taking to a _Colonel_."

His head snaps over to me so quickly, I wouldn't be too surprised if the man now has whiplash. "How much of that did you hear?" Harm's staring at me now, with a wide eyed, crazy look.

I nod towards the road which he's now neglecting to keep an eye on. "Ah, you wanna watch the road there, Sailor? I might want to make it to the cabin in piece not pieces." Shaking my head, I chuckle at his antics slightly wondering what cross road we've now hit. I can just imagine it's work related and our little getaway will be cut short.

"No, really. . .How much of that did you hear?" He's now alternating between watching the road and staring at me. Harm's eyes have hit his hairline, his breathing has quickened. What the hell is up with him now! "Mac?"

I shrug. "Something about a Colonel and. . .that you can promise him something. . .Not much, really."

When I turn to look at him, Harm seems almost. . .relieved? "That's all you heard?"

"Yup."

He starts to laugh almost in a hysterical fashion. Really he's starting to freak me. . "Harm! Look out!" I yell as a deer hops onto the road. Using those pilot reflexes, he swerves to the right, then to the left and then to the right again, missing the deer entirely. I hang on to the dashboard as the car skids off of the road, down the embankment and farther still. "Make it stop!" Yelling doesn't really help, I realize this but when your car is out of control and speeding towards a tree. . .TREE! "Harm! TREE!"

"I SEE IT!" Well, actually, clearly he didn't see it as that's the one thing that stopped our trajectory. In fact, the whole front of the SUV is now part of the tree.

Mercifully, the SUV came to a stop and, from the looks of it, neither Harm nor I have been injured. I'm willing to bet the only thing injured is his pride. "You okay?" I ask, removing my fingers from the little holes I left on the dashboard.

Harm turns to me and sighs. "Yea, you?" He's about to say something else when a loud bang on the roof of the car startles us both. "What the hell is that?" He asks, removing his seatbelt and nearly making it all the way to my side.

"I don't know. . .But. . .Woah!" There's the bang again. Alright, this is really starting to get freaky. "It's the deer!" I say, pointing to the animal which skidded off the roof and onto what's left of the hood. I swear, it gives us this evil eye before merrily jumping off of the car and heading on its way. "Alright, someone has GOT to say it. . .Are we trouble magnets or what!"

I mean, really, what else can happen?

Harm groans loudly. "We're never going to make it to the cabin now. . .This is. . .this SUCKS!" He yells, then bangs his fist onto the steering wheel. The car horn makes this God awful sound before finally dying. "I make these. . .plans and. . .Damnit! I HAD PLANS!"

"Well I did too." I offer, but he turns to me and. . .alright, I don't like that look. Can we say 'disdain?' "I did!" I defend. To be perfectly honest, my plans only involved a bed and him. But, they were plans nonetheless. "What? Were your plans THAT important? I mean, we're literally staying in the middle of no where." Not quite, I mean there is a village near by, but it's not like we're in the city where there's entertainment or something. "The population of that little. . .village is like twelve." Alright, so I'm embellishing, but I remember it being a three digit number, that's pretty low when you come from a city like DC. "You know. . .You were screaming like a girl." I snort and break out laughing so hard I have to hold my stomach.

Nothing seems to be pacifying Harm who's mumbling something about 'setting dates' and 'special moments.' Men! "I was NOT screaming like a girl, Mac. . .Sheesh! Look, just get on the cellphone. . .maybe we can get this stupid car out of here and we can get a rental. . .something!"

I shake my head. "No. . .Given the circumstances, we should cut our loses and just stay in town. I mean, it's pretty obvious something doesn't want use to leave." It's probably Assassin doing some sort of doggy spell from the Cresswell's.

"OH, I don't care if we have to have some. . . some. . .CLEANSING ritual, we are getting our sixes over to that cabin, missy." He points at me, then proceeds to remove his seatbelt and jacket.

Missy? Did he just call me missy? "Missy?"

He looks at me and then shrugs. "At least I didn't call you 'sister!'" Jumping carefully over the seats, Harm winds up in the back with a rather loud thud. "Woops."

"Sister?" Sister? Harm's been watching too much television. "Are you alright?"

"Peachy." He groans. "Just make the stupid call!"

Wow, what a grouch! "Fine, I'll call." I grab the cell phone, dial the number and am patched through to the police, assuring them that both Harm and I are fine, just in need of something to bring the car (and us) back on the road. "Oh, really? Yes. . .No. . .Well. .Oooooh. . .Gosh. . .alright. . .bye." Disgusted, I toss the phone on the dashboard and since we are at an odd angle, the sucker slides down, hitting the glass. "Great. Just friggin' great!

"That didn't sound promising." No shit.

Is this my punishment for some past life? Really, I want to know so I can steel myself. "Apparently, our little evasive maneuver caused a bit of a pile up on the freeway. . .It's going to take a whiiiiiiile before anyone gets here."

"You're kidding me!"

Did it sound like I was kidding? "No, I'm not. . .Apparently, several people also called about the accident. . .And what the hell are you doing in the back seat anyway?"

"Umm." His hands which were inside of his bag stop abruptly. Harm stares at me as if he'd been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. "Just. . .well, making sure your gift is alright."

Ah, a gift. Yes, I have his as well, however, being a Marine a I am, his are safe, sound and efficiently packaged. I can only image the mess my squid has inside his bags. Thought Harm is quite neat, the man has no concept of PACKING. I guess he failed 'how to pack a seabag' class in Annapolis or something. "So what DID you get me?" I raise an eyebrow in question and Harm just goes BEET red. "Or didn't you get me?. . . You forgot it, didn't you?"

Harm shakes his head. "No. . .It's just. . .well I have a few things but this _specific_ gift is. . .well it's somewhere in here and fragile" He grunts out, his hand flying deep into the bag. "Argh! Damnit!"

Oh, what now? I peak over at Harm to find his shirt's sleeve now attached to the zipper tag. "How'd you manage that?" After removing my seat belt, I hop onto the back seat, traipsing over Harm as I go. "Sorry."

"Suuuure you are!" He tries to remove his hand from the bag but it's futile. "Stupid thing! Give me my hand back!" He tries again and as he does, I hear a ripping sound, no doubt coming from his shirt sleeve. Something small and black sails through the air. "NO!" Harm yells and lunges forward to grab the object. In the process, I also move to catch the object, the end result is a head butt which leaves me dazed. "Owww, Mac!"

"Harm!" I rub my aching forehead and manage to peak out at him through the tears of pain that have formed in my eyes. "What the hell was that?" I ask, my voice laced with irritation. Following his gaze, I look down and, to my surprise, I find a black, velvet box.

A black, velvet box. A ring box. My mouth goes dry, my heart tightens so much it feels as if I'm having a heart attack. Maybe I am? And this head butt induced migraine isn't helping. I blink a few times, hoping that maybe it's not just my imagination. Alright, so I haven't seen inside of the box and it could be just a regular piece of jewelry, earrings, something of the sort. But, I am hoping it's something else. . .Something I've wanted from Harm for such a long time. Hey, a girl can dream right? "Is. . .is that my. . .my Ch-Christmas present?" I stammer out, managing to lift my eyes from the box long enough to make eye contact with Harm.

"Yes." He breathes out, his face is this cross between embarrassment and fear. Harm swallows a few times and reaches down to pick up the box. "Damnit, Mac I had plans." I am sure he did. . .Now if he would just let me have a peak. I reach over to snatch it from him, but Harm smacks my hand away. "No. . .Let me talk here."

"You're not going to start babbling are you?" Please, no. My migraine can't take it.

Harm sighs dramatically. "I wanted to give you this at midnight. . .Well, I was hoping I would work up the courage to give you this at midnight." Oh God. . .Maybe I was right? Maybe today, on this embankment, inside this car which is now part of a tree, I'll get what will be the sweetest Christmas present ever? His deep breaths are unnerving, so is that frightened look. I'm tempted to bop him over the head and steal the box when he finally opens it. "This isn't quite the way I planned. . .But. . .Sarah, will you marry me?"

I could have sworn that he just asked me to marry him. Right? Was that what he said? I'm not so sure, at the moment, the car is spinning and. . .and. . .woah. . .umm. . . I'm not going to faint. . .I'm not going to faint. . .I'm not going to.

In some part of my unconsciousness I feel the pain when my head comes in contact with the window. THUD.

(AN: Is the Fine Art coming to an end now? No. . technically, a courtship  
is a form of 'dating' I mean, there's lots of things to plan, right? So,  
for now, it will continue. . .Happy Michi? ;))


	37. Yes? No? Maybe?

PART 37 – Yes? No? Maybe!

"Sarah, will you marry me?" Oh, oh. Now I've done it. I knew, well. . .no I didn't know, but, I had this sick little nagging feeling that things weren't going to end up well. Now, Mac looks like she's going to hurl. I can't be THAT repulsive, right? I mean she's managed to spend a whole YEAR with me and now. . .Oh. . .Umm. JESUS! Now it looks like she's reenacting some scene from the Exorcist!

Oh. . .Woops, she umm. . .she passed out?

'THUD' And hit her head against the window which, miraculously, has not shattered. "Mac!" I crawl over the bags, tossing them towards the very end of the SUV and sit next to Mac. I press my fingers onto the back of her scull and find a bump starting to form. "Great, just friggin' great!" Yup, that went over well and will go right up onto Rabb and MacKenzie's misadventures. I breathe a sigh of relief as she comes to and presses her hand against her head. "Mac?" What is passing out considered anyway? Yes? No? Maybe!

"Stop yelling." Mac barks out and settles herself more comfortably against the seats. I move my hand away from her head and watch her for a moment. "Argh. My head."

Great, now I'll have a pissed off Marine on my hands. "You hit it against the window."

"No shit." She grounds out, then slowly opens her eyes and looks. . .nervous? "What just happened?"

There are so many answers really. But, I'm still leaning on playing dumb. I mean, her passing out CAN'T be a good thing. I've never seen her pass out. Actually, she passed out once on me right when I pulled her off of 'Sarah' the day the poachers were hunting us in the Appalachians, but that's understandable. She'd lost a lot of blood then. "Uh, you passed out."

Her eyebrow does that raised thingy and her eyes, which are still dazed and confused pin me with the glare of death. Screw 'glare of death' she looks positively manic. "Yes, I gathered. . .But, I meant BEFORE that."

"We crashed?" I offer, suddenly realizing that the box is no where to be found. I had it in my hand two seconds ago. "Uh, hang on." Where the hell is it? Ignoring her for a moment, I tear through the SUV wondering where the box could have gone.

"I _know_ we crashed, Harm!" Hmm, she sounds irritated.

Finding my bag, I start to toss clothing out of it, trying to find the damned box. "Well it wasn't my fault!" Sheesh! Women! "Aha!" C'mere you stupid little thing. "Woah!"

When I pop back to the seat that Mac's in, she looks at me and starts to laugh hysterically. "What?" Fighting fits of laughter, she points at my head, and just breaks down again. "What!" I rake my hands through my hair and find one of Mac's bra's (Yes, it was in my bag, she left it when she was over last week! Get your mind out of the gutter!) clinging to my hair by the clasp. "Oh for the love of God!" Trying to remove it only seems to lock it farther in place and Mac, well she's just having a blast. "Could you stop laughing for all of two seconds and help?"

She doesn't stop laughing, only bites her lip in order to stop it from being so loud. It works, but now it comes out in machine gun bursts of snorts. Finally, she manages to extricate her bra from my hair, dangling it on one finger. "Mmm, nice color."

"I wouldn't know." I growl out. On second thought, screw the proposal!

No. . .I don't mean that, but this is LESS than romantic. I heave a sigh and hold the box up so she could see it. "Can we try this again?" Mac nods expectantly and I am suddenly feeling at ease. She does want me. . .She has to. How could she not? Slowly opening the box, I let the words pour out of me once again. I think it's harder this time. "Sarah, will you mar. . ."

"AH!" We both yell in surprise when a knock on the window of the SUV brings us out of one of those moments. Annoyed I glare at the intruder, then feel a wave of relief as I realize it's Virginia Highway Patrol. Amen!

The VHP officer gives us an aloof expression and then smiles. "We have a winch to pull your car out, but I don't think you'll be going anywhere today." He informs us. "But, I am sure we can find a way to get you to where you were going." It's obvious he saw what was about to happen if the wink in my direction was any indication. Either that or he has the hots for me. Eww.

It takes us about two hours to hit the road again. And that's after dropping my car off at the garage, getting a cab to take us to the car rental agency, renting the car and putting our stuff into it. "Keep your eyes on the road this time, huh?" Mac said with a chuckle as we pulled out on the freeway again.

Once we arrived in town, we selected a tree, bought food and other necessities before heading towards the cabin. I am happy to report that this trip was made without incident. When we arrive at the cabin, Mac lets out a low whistle. "Jeez, I remember we saw it in a picture, but this is. . .this is. . .wow." I'd have to agree. The Little Lake Cabin is situated in about an acre of land. It has this small, wooden dock that leads out to the 'Little Lake.'

"Head on up, I'll get the bags." I hand her the keys, grinning as Mac takes off like a kid, practically skipping her way up the steps. She steps inside, disappearing as I grab a few of the grocery bags and make my way back. "How about a fire?" I yell as I pass a stack of firewood and an axe.

As I make to step into the cabin, I run right into Mac, colliding with a combined. "Ooof."

"Woah there, Marine. . .We're on vacation, no need to throttle the Navy." I say with a chuckle as she blushes and excuses herself, heading out to the car. The place is quite cozy. There is a fireplace and a small living room/dinning room area. The kitchen has a wooden door that leads to the docks and the bedroom is past the living room facing the lake. The decoration is rustic, everything made out of strong woods and deep green colors. In the corner, by the sofa, I spot the empty space the owners left when I asked them if it would be alright to buy a tree. "Nice." On the sofa I find a box full of ornaments, lights and all sorts of trimming goodies along with a Christmas Card and a congratulatory statement from the owners who know I plan to propose on this trip. Sigh, I hope she says yes.

It doesn't take too long for us to put away the goodies and our clothing. Then we move to the task of trimming the tree. "Ouch!" Stupid thing just attacked me!

"What?" Mac says, poking her head out from under the tree. She's laying on the floor, under the tree, trying to tighten the stand's screws that hold the tree in place.

"I almost poked my eye out with a pine needle."

She snorts, LOUDLY. "Tree trying to attack you, babe?" Hah. Funny. "Alright I think that's it." She says triumphantly coming to her feet. We take a few steps back, standing side by side staring.

"It's crooked." I announce, then turn my head slightly. "I mean, really, it's crooked." And it is, the thing is literally about forty five degrees to the side and hitting the wall. This is the mode hideous tree I've ever SEEN in my life.

Mac shrugs. "Guess I'll just dive under and play with the screws." She does so and I take to the task of holding the tree again. A few minutes pass by and I feel the tree shifting towards my side. "Erm, stop that."

"Stop what?" I ask, staring down and seeing nothing but Mac's torso and A LOT of pine needles.

She pokes her head out and glares at me. "The pine needle thing. If they have sap they are going to stick all over me. . .It's kinda gross."

Alright, at a loss here. "What _pine needle thing_?"

"Harm, don't tell me you weren't just tossing pine needles down at me. . .I don't know how you managed to get a few in my shirt, but I have some there as well." I feel the tree moving more towards me by the second.

"Mac, I swear, I didn't." Alright, now the tree really IS attacking me. "Woah, would you stop turning those things?" The moment Mac pops back up, I can't help it, I start laughing. "What. . .the. . .hell. . .happened. . .to . . .you?" I ask between fits of laughter.

Mac's covered with pine needles. There are some in her hair, shirt, arms giving her this completely crazed look. "This is your fault. . .Tell me you weren't tossing down pine needles at me."

"I wasn't!" I defend, and really I wasn't.

"Great!" She says, throwing her hands up in. . .in. . .disbelief? "The stupid tree is dying."

Ah, well there is a reason for that. "I told you we should forgo the tree, I mean it was the only one on the lot." I point out.

"Harm, it's Christmas. . .and it isn't Christmas without a tree!" She sounds like a little kid as she says that. Stepping in front of the tree, she runs her hands over one of the branches and guess what? Every single pine needle falls off of it.

"Woops. . .Maybe we should just decorate it and. . ." Her glare tells me otherwise. "Maybe not." Staring at Mac I practically see the light bulb pop up above her head. "Uh oh, what's that look for?"

"There _was _an ax outside, right?" If I say 'no' and she still finds it, would I be killed? A mischevious grin forms on her lips. "Yep, right next to the log pile."

"Mac!" Before I can get a word out, she's out the door, grabbing the axe and heading towards the little forest not too far away. "What are you doing?"

She waves her arm at me, beckoning me to join. "Cutting down our tree!"

To her credit, it was a wonderful idea. Wonderful if you ignore the deer that scared the hell out of us, the stubborn tree that took about an hour to cut and the fact that we got LOST on the way back to the cabin. It's nearing Midnight and FINALLY we've finished with the tree. I decided to start a fire while Mac showers. As I hear the water running, it gives me time to dig the ring out of my bag and stare at it for the millionth time. It's really pretty and just right for her. Nothing too flashy, just perfect. Perfect.

Nervously, I shove the ring into my pocket and sit on the sofa by the fireplace waiting. When she comes out, Mac's not wearing a slinky number as I thought she would. Instead, she's wearing these flannel, dinosaur PJs that look so damned cute on her. "What you do to flannel should be a sin." And probably is in at least two states and one country.

"C'mon, these aren't sexy."

Yes they are. "If you say so, but, to me. . .You look pretty damned hot, Marine."

Mac settles next to me, snuggling up before placing a soft kiss on my lips. "Flattery will get you everywhere." She closes her eyes for a moment, then opens them up. Her lips curve into a smile. "It's midnight. . .Merry Christmas, Harm."

I take a deep breath and pull the box out of my pocket. I have to get it right his time. "Merry Christmas, Sarah." I hold up and open the box for her, grinning like an idiot when the expression on her face changes from mischievous to shocked to. . .enamored. Yes, that's the best description, enamored. Removing the hand I have draped around her shoulders, I push myself off the sofa and come to kneel in front of her. "Sarah, will you. . ."

"Yes!" She yelps and tries to launch herself at me, but I stop her. "Harm?"

I sigh. "Mac, I've been trying to get this right for a while now. . .all day in fact. . .Will you just let me ask?" She grins impishly at me and nods. "Good. . .Now. . ." Take another breath and don't forget to let it out, wouldn't it just suck if I passed out right now? "Sarah, will you marry me?"

Mac hesitates for a moment and then a lazy grin spreads across those full lips of hers. "Yes, Harmon, I'll marry you. . .Now can I throw myself into your arms and kiss you senseless?" Like I am going to object to that? The twinkle of the Christmas lights combined with the warm hue of the fireplace cast a myriad of colors on the walls. My heart swells with pride as the woman in my arms pledges herself to me with kisses that are just that much more powerful than they've ever been. "Make love to me, Harm. . .Here, in front of the fireplace."

Again – Like I'm going to object to that. "Actually." I say with a grin. "I've always wanted to have a little fun under the tree."

Bursting out laughing, Mac shakes her head 'no.' "Not such a hot idea, there Sailor. With our luck the tree will probably fall on us."

I can't really argue with that. "Good point." I say, then fuse my mouth to hers.

"Oh!" Mac suddenly calls out, abruptly stopping our kiss. "I get it now."

Hmmm. Nice. What's she talking about? "What?"

"Uncle Matt?. . .The Colonel you were speaking to? You called Uncle Matt." Guilty as charged. Leave it to the Marines to figure something like THAT out.

I grin impishly and nod. "It felt right to ask him for your hand in marriage."

"That's awfully chivalrous of you, Harmon." Even though she's trying to joke it off, I KNOW my Marine, she likes it. A lot.

"I want to do this right."

Mac nods. "I know. . .And I can give you a good idea of a right way to start." She waggles her eyebrows suggestively. We kiss again, hungrily, passionately as we prepare to spend what I am sure will be the best Christmas of my life. The best Christmas of OUR lives. Happy Holidays!

- - - -

Of course, TBC. . .Since now they have to start the wedding plans and all of that stuff. Imagine Harm fighting with caterers and florists and Mac stressing about wedding dresses and coordinators? ;) Yup, lotsa fun!

HAPPY HOLIDAYS gang! Stay safe huh!

Jackie - Who had the TEST FROM HELL today but is going to ignore that until January. . .3rd? 2nrd? Whatever. ;)


	38. Lingerie and Dead Roses

Unbeated as these are always spur of the moment stories. No, I am not abandoning these, I just haven't had that many ideas to write about. It was Valentine's day and I had to do something though. Hope you guys like it, or not. ;)

Take care!

Jackie

PART 38 – Lingerie and Dead Roses

It's Valentine's Day and for the first time in like. . .ever, I'm happy, in love and. . .oh, did I mention? ENGAGED! I, Sarah MacKenzie am ENGAGED to Harmon Rabb Junior. I giggle at the thought which has made me continuously giddy.

Thing is. . .well. . .NO ONE KNOWS. I mean, alright, we wanted to keep our engagement to ourselves for a while, but. . .It's almost been TWO months! I want to tell the world and not have to hide the rock, damnit!

Sitting here, in front of my mirror as I prepare for my secret date for Harm, I can't help but have this cheesy grin plastered. Quite the change.

A year ago, I was part of the vast number of individuals who's motto during Valentine's Day was "Love Sucks." I found more interested in the St. Valentine's Day Massacre than the point of the holiday. Before today, I had a set of rules for the occasion a) avoid couples of all kinds especially the nauseating ones that take public display of affection to the raunchy side, b) stock up on food to not have to leave the house and find said couples, c) rent some action movie sans romantic scenes, d) if totally bored, head to the grocery store and watched forgetful individuals try to haggle the floral department into making this super nice arrangement out of one dead rose, baby's breath and three carnations with a deflated balloon.

Yes, I was a sad and lonely individual before Harmon Rabb came into my life. No need to tell him this though, that ego will get stroked and the reservations I made were only for two.

The dress I picked out for the occasion is red, of course. This should be like St. Patrick's day, really, if you don't wear green, you get pinched? I'll one up that, if your lover doesn't wear red on St. Valentine's Day, you get to pinch his. .. or her six. I grin at the thought, knowing Harm's going to get in wearing his Naval blues without a shred of red on them. Oh six pinching I will be.

So this dress, is one of the sexy variety – the saleswoman called it the 'woman on a platter' dress and even suggested this matching lingerie set which, yes, I am wearing underneath.

Though we do have to be at work in the morning (doesn't that suck?) I made a little arrangement at The Willard which included a dinner reservation and if the flyboy doesn't get here in the next forty minutes I will kill him, the receptionist specifically told me not to be late. Getting the reservations was not an easy feat. Despite the fact that Valentine's Day landed on a Tuesday, everything is booked and I do mean EVERYTHING. It wasn't anything that my commanding officer couldn't handle.

Funny how many people are influenced when THE JAG calls in a favor or two. Course, I will be owing Cresswell until the day I die, but hey, it's a small price to pay.

"Babe, I'm here." Quickly and nearly managing to sprain my angle, I shoot up and run towards my bedroom door. Please don't let him walk in! It's all about making an entrance and that is exactly what I want to make. "Mac? Where are. . ."

I step out and lean against the doorframe, grinning at his expression. His mouth is hanging open and, damn him, he's ready, dressed in an all black suit with a red tie that, somehow manages to match the color of my dress. "Damn sailor, looking mighty fine." So much for my six pinching. . .Oh well, I'll do that later, when he's naked.

That look of his goes from awestruck to worry to. . .fear? Alright, what gives? "Damnit Mac. . .Do you have to look so good?"

Hmmm. That's a first, rarely have I ever had a man NOT like it when I look 'good.' "You don't like the dress?"

Harm snorts. "Oh, I _love_ the dress it's hugging every curve and dips just. . ." He stops short of making a fool out of himself, his face turning bright red. "Sorry. . .one track mind."

"Hmm. . .yes." There's one little thing that I find wrong with this picture. . .No, two things. 1) He hasn't kissed me and 2) where's my gift! For the last three weeks he's kept on bragging about this gift he got me. . .I don't see it. Maybe it's on him?

Assassin raises his head off of the doggy bed and stairs at Harm, yawns then lays back down. Yes, they are pal's now. To Assassin, Harm's just like another furniture in the house. That doesn't stop him from howling when we make love, but the stereo helps block those sounds. "Alright." I step towards him and Harm steps backwards, hits his hip on the arm chair and stumbles into it. "Hmm difficulties getting your sea legs?" I tease, helping Harm to his feet, he still doesn't come near me or kiss me or. . .what's going on! Is this some sort of foreplay! "Harm? What's up?"

Dejected, he crosses to the center of my living room and settles on the top of the coffee table. "Your gift. . .I don't have it."

"That's all you're worried about?" Woah! What did he just say? "Wait one cotton picking minute, mister. . .Did you just say you didn't have my gift?"

"Yes." He nods and sighs in dramatic Harm fashion.

"Harmon Rabb who has been teasing me for, about, three weeks about this – and I quote – 'gift you are going to scream over' – doesn't have it?" This has GOT to be some joke. And really, I wouldn't be so perturbed if it wasn't because he built it up so much. No kidding! We spent evenings with him annoying me until I partook in guessing for the gift. Every time I gave an answer, it was wrong. Even last night he was. . .ARGH MEN! "You can just give it to me tomorrow, no biggie."

Harm sighs again. "That would be nice, yes. . . I just never got it." He shrugs. "I kept putting it off and when I went to get it. . .the place was closed."

What! "Okay, let me get this straight. . .You were driving me nuts over a gift you didn't even buy?"

He nods, then stands up. "Pretty much, yup." His arms wrap around me in a bear hug that leaves me without any air in my lungs. "Glad you're so understanding, but I'll make it up to you."

I want to argue, but I've put so much money down on tonight that I don't have the heart or guts for that matter. "Let's go, huh?"

We head off together after I place a bowl of food and water for Assassin. My neighbor, Mrs. Kiore will make sure everything is alright with him while we're away. Stepping into Harm's Vette I find what was probably a lovely bouquet of red roses at one point. I raise up the, now wilted and browning, flowers and raise a brow at my fiancé. "Bad day?" He offers with a shrug. "I was going to surprise you in the office with them, but that client of mine escaped and. . ."

"Let's just get to dinner." I said, hoping to save us a bad moment.

Dinner, surprisingly, was nice and romantic. The restaurant at The Willard had managed to wrangle up some non-alcoholic wine. Everything went well, no ex-girlfriends of any sort. No one that we knew. And we even managed to slip in a dance before dessert. "That was lovely." I say and settle myself across from Harm who's starting to look nervous. "Harm?" I see our night taking a turn for the worst as he stands up and rushes off without explanation. As I stand to run after him, the waiter, Raul, returns with the desserts. "Excuse me." I tell him only to have the man become rather insistent.

"Ma'am, this chocolate mouse is only good if you eat it right away." He tells me, rolling the covered plate towards me.

I stand up again, but Raul comes around the table to block my view. "I'm sure it will be fine, excuse. . ."

Raul settles me back down with a smile. "But, ma'am. . .I couldn't bare it if such a decadent dessert went to waste. . . I implore you, eat it now."

Alright, I've had just about enough of this. "Look _Raul._ I'll eat the freakin' thing when I am good and ready now get your ass out of my way!" The man refuses and I use my secret weapon. "I'm a Lieutenant Colonel with the Marine Corps and know at least six good ways to kill you with my pinky! Get out of my way." I threaten making Raul's eyes widen with shock. That Marine thing always works. I know I'm making a scene now which only gets worse when I see Harm walking back to the table, an electric guitar strapped to him. "What the?"

Not only is he heading towards me with the guitar, but so is the house band. One of the members hands Harm a microphone and he promptly puts it to good use. "Ladies and Gentlemen, can I have your attention please?" Once the whole, entire, as in everyone in the place, is paying attention to him and me. . .him and me. . .Oh God. "First off, I have an announcement. That woman over there." He says, pointing at me with his free hand. "Well, I asked her to marry me on Christmas and she said yes." The place absolutely erupts in a loud roar of applauses which is making the management slightly peeved. This is an upscale place and things of this nature seldom happen. Course, my "I'm a Marine" speech couldn't help either.

"Second." The expression on Harm's face changes slightly to embarrassment. "I haven't given her a gift tonight." The crowd unanimously boo's at him and I can't help but chuckle when Raul calls Harm an idiot. "Now, now. . .I put it off, so it is my fault. . .See, in my family we have several heirlooms, one of which is this stud earring set that belonged to my great, great grandmother and has been handed on down. . .Sarah, I had grams send them to me, but FedEx closed before I could pick them up. . .That was the slip that you placed on my desk this morning."

My mouth, I know, is forming a perfect 'O.' Not to be nosy, but I was curious as to why he was expecting a package from Pennsylvania and why, for that matter, the package wasn't just delivered. Now I get it and I feel a little bad for doubting him.

He eyes me with this 'please forgive me' look. "I could have picked it up, but I was busy with the guys, chatting in the break room." Harm hands the microphone back to one of the band members who holds it up for him to sing into. "This was a spur of the moment thing.. . .here goes." He slowly strums the guitar as the lyrics of "Groovy Kind Of Love" come to life.

My eyes fill with unshed tears. Damn him, why am I always the only one crying? As I brush aside a single tear, I can tell he's thinking the same thing or at least, remembering the same thing. He ends with a rousing applause, then hands the guitar back to the band. Settling in front of me, Harm takes my hand and kisses my knuckles. "Baby, I'm sorry. . .I hope I didn't ruin Valentine's day?"

I shake my head. Ruin it? You kidding me? "Ruin it. . .No. . .That was lovely." And very embarrassing, but I bet a nice shade of red on my cheeks speaks for itself. "How about we finish dessert so we can start with some _real_ celebrating."

He raises a brow in pure amusement as his eyes cloud over with mischief. "Just what do you have in mind, MacKenzie?" Dessert ignored, he pulls me up with the hand he's still holding.

I tug him behind me. "Oh, nothing really. . .It's red, see through and you can take it off of me with your teeth." I throw over my shoulder only to feel Harm tug me back. "Harm?"

In a swift move he has me in his arms, carrying me towards the elevator. "We have to be at work early for that Whitmore deposition. That means we only have a few hours before we have to get some sleep. . ."

Alright, so I didn't really think about the fact that we have to be in earlier than usual. "Harm? Hurry up!" His reasoning works damn well with me.

Happy Valentine's Day!


	39. Pillow Talk

This is a silly idea, why did I write it, I'll tell you why below. :)

Jackie

PART 39 – Pillow Talk.

I am slightly confused as to why we get attached to certain things which we do not need for our basic survival. Material objects like cars, CDs, DVDs, computers. Replaceable things. I guess they are like 'comfort foods' so to speak, they make us feel good for whatever reason. "I can't believe you washed it!" Mac yells at me for the umpteenth time as I slide the Lexus into a spot at Macy's. "I've had it forever!" She pouts and, come to think of it, looking really cute when she pouts. I am not too sure I should tell her that, it might piss her off. Scratch that, she might kill me, but damn will she look cute doing it.

"I didn't do it on purpose." I say lamely. It's been my excuse since the night before. See, I tend to have this inherent need for cleaning. Mind you, my place, as of late, looks like a tornado has been through it – somehow it's easier to just clean someone else's things. Anyway, so I'm over at Mac's helping with laundry – pretty much just an excuse to see her underwear. At some point she instructs me to take the sheets off of the bed to wash them as well.

Being the ever dutiful, helpful male, I do as told, strip down the bed and remove the pillow cases as well. That's when I find it. Holding up with two fingers is this. . .THING about as thick as a pancake. No, actually, pancakes are thicker. It's Mac's pillow.

Since we've spent time at each other's apartments I've realized she tends to sleep better in hers than my own. Egomaniacally I thought it had something to do with me sleeping in her bed, protecting her, etcetera. Ah, no, it's her pillow. This flat, ugly, saliva stained pillow that she's had, and I quote, "Since 1989."

I jump out of the Lexus and go around to open the door for Mac only to find her brushing me off. "Do you know how difficult it's going to be for me to sleep now!"

"Mac, that's dramatizing it a bit, don't you think?"

Apparently she doesn't think the same way if that look of hers say anything. "You don't understand. . .It's. . .It's. . .argh! . .It's like the attachment to your Corvette. . .Remember how upset you were when it was stolen?"

Alright, she did _not_ just compare a classic Corvette to a stinky old pillow. I give her a glare of indignation. "Mac, you can not possibly compare the Vette to that. . .that. . ."

"Saltine." She says with a grin. Saltine, as in a saltine cracker. Yes, it's that thin!

"Whatever. . .What a stupid name."

For that I get smacked on the shoulder. "Hey! It's bad enough you killed the thing, you don't have to make fun of it's name."

Sighing deeply, I step behind Mac as we head up the escalator. "I did not _kill_ it, Mac. . .I cleaned it."

This un-lady like snort resonates in front of me before Mac turns slightly. "You bleached it! You bleached it TWO days ago and it still stinks. . .Jesus Christ, Harm, the cotton is even disintegrating!"

"Shows you how old it is." I throw quietly. Stepping off the escalator, I search for the sign letting us know where the stuff for the beds are. Across from the comforter things in a bag, is a very large wall with zillions of pillows available. "Damn, one hundred bux for a pillow?" I study one that comes inside of a box, supposedly it's contoured so that when you turn over your ear falls in a crevice so that you are comfortable. Hmmm.

Mac raises a brow. "For one hundred bucks I'd better fall asleep in three minutes." Sighing, she walks away from me studying the different types of pillows on the wall.

I may just get one for myself. Reaching over I grab a white pillow with green trim which is for 'back and stomach sleepers.' " Hmmm." Come to think of it, I have no idea _how_ I sleep. I mean, does anyone? I tend to sleep on my side a lot with Mac because I curl up with her. But, sometimes, I'll wake up at the other side of the bed hanging slightly off of it, sleeping on my stomach. "Hey, Mac, what type of sleeper am I?"

When I don't get an answer, I turn to the side to find one of the funniest things I've ever scene. Mac's standing in front one of the racks, her head between two shelves as she 'tests' a pillow. Casually, as if that's a normal thing to do, she brings her head up, whacking it with the top shelf. "Ouch! Damnit. . .friggin'." Rubbing her head, she walks towards me. "What?"

"What type of sleeper am I?"

She stares at me as if I've lost my mind. "Deep?"

I chuckle and shake my head. "No, like do I sleep on my side, on my stomach or on my back."

"Is this a trick question?" Mac's still rubbing the spot on her head. "I don't know, you're like. . .all of the above? Why do you ask?"

I point out the series of 'custom' pillows. "You can get one pertaining to how you sleep. . . And you, babe, are a side sleeper."

She smirks at me, though she's trying to keep that angry façade. "Do you watch me sleep _that_ much." Mac comes a little closer to me and I feel that little zing of electricity between us.

"Oh, you're cute when you sleep. . .So. . .So, peaceful." My hands come to her sides, resting under the jacket she's wearing, right on her hips. "You know, I didn't bleach Saltine on purpose." Yes, I did, the woman needed to get rid of that thing! Talk about dust mites!

Mac grins. "Yes you did. . .You're going to have to make it up to me, Commander."

"I have some good ideas on how to do that."

She moves back slightly, reaches back, grabs a pillow and whacks me over the head with it. "That's not the make up I wanted."

"Uh oh."

Nodding, she hands me two pillows. "Uh oh is right, Harm. . .For starters, lunch at Beltway Burgers. . .Then, ice cream. . .after that. . .remember that new, _sappy_ chic flick?. . ." I walk after her holding both pillows as she rattles off the list of things I am to do. Finally, she grabs a pack of two dark green pillow cases and adds them to my burden. "Then we _might_ discuss other terms."

"Other terms?" I ask stupidly, then place the stuff on the register counter.

Mac smiles. "Like dinner, finishing my laundry, cleaning my house. . .Stuff like that." She pats me on the six and grins.

Somehow that's not quite the terms I was thinking of, but, no matter. It is the weekend and the night is young. Besides, Mac can never resist me when I make my infamous Sinful Chocolate Cake. "You got a deal, MacKenzie."

"I was never _dealing_, Rabb." Ummm, maybe that chocolate cake won't work this time?  
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -  
This idea came up yesterday when I went to get a new pillow. I havea Saltine, it really is that thin, I put it on top of another to sleep. No, I didn't get rid of saltine, but the other pillow which I put under it. I don't let anyone touch my Saltine, it's mine! It irritates me when people touch it. So, just don't. ;) LOL

Jackie


	40. It's Massage, Get Over It!

Okay, for the people who have asked I do something with massage in it. Here it is. I've been asked to make some of these Adult-fics, smut, etc. I can't because I post them on as well and that wouldn't be fair to skip a chapter on them, which is what I would have to do if I write it smut since these chapters are so short.

Anyway, enjoy!

PS: The title is based on one of our teacher's sayings which cracked me up. I to go an Oriental Bodywork school, so our primary work is on Oriental medicine and oriental massage. But, we do that 'normal' Swedish massage as well. Anyway, in class, you have to strip down because you can't work on someone over their clothes. So it's funny, us veterans just strip right off, the newbies get that deer in the headlight "Oh my god, what did I get myself into!" look while, probably, wondering if they'd just joined some sort of nudist cult. Mind you, we never strip all the way. (Unless you are in Swedish Massage class, where you do strip all the way but under the covers. LOL!) It's all fun though and great. My body is bitching about not being massaged regularly anymore.

Oh, I graduate, informally on Friday! Yay! Formally, with cap and gown in August (they try to get our whole year full of students together to graduate them.). Wish me luck, National Board exam is next!

Jackie

**PART 40 - It's Massage, Get Over It!  
Mac's POV**

I'm normally not the type to get uncomfortable really easy. One thing the  
Marine Corps teaches is adaptation, to any situation. Now, glancing around  
at some of the odd people in this place, I'm a little more than just  
uncomfortable. "Again, why was this such a good idea?" I ask Harriet who  
is sitting next to me.

"Aww, Mac. Won't it be fun to use on the boys?"

I snort indignantly, "Harm and I already have enough fun, thank you. . .And  
considering that you and Bud have FOUR kids, I'd say you're having a good  
time as well." Ahahaa! She's blushing now, good. "Anyway, there are other  
ways to have fun. . .This is a bit. . .well. . .not me."

Never was I really able to do the whining thing and make it sound good.  
Harriet, who I am sure, hears plenty of whining from her kids, isn't phased.  
"Have you done this before?"

"No." I can see where she's going. "But."

"Then you have NO idea what you are talking about." She smiles in that  
innocent looking 'I got you' type of way that is uniquely Harriet. I swear,  
the woman could con the Pope. "Besides, THIS is fun."

Sighing, I glance around once more. There are only women here, no men at  
all. My eyes settle on the large poster behind the podium. "Massage Class."  
Yes, I am taking a massage class and it's all Harriet's fault! See, when we  
agreed to do some 'girlie' things from time to time, I didn't think she'd  
drag me out to this. The woman led me to believe this was a Woman's show,  
you know? New clothing, make up, things for the home? Erm, no. We are at  
Tai Yang's School Of Massage attending their six hour 'relaxation massage'  
course. All I can say, if Harm knew about this and didn't tell, he's a dead  
man.

A woman who has to be no taller than five foot three, with dark hair that is  
everywhere and a tie dyed mu mu steps up. "Hello, everyone!" Bleh, I bet  
five bucks her name is Willow. "My name is Rainsong." Hmm, close but no  
cigar, I prefer Willow though. I grin. "Well come to the Tai Yang School  
Of Massage six hour open house. . .before we begin, did all of you find a  
buddy?" I pat Harriet on the shoulder. She's my buddy. Thank God, I don't  
think I want to be touched by Willow. "Good, then let's step through the  
doors to the right, I want you and your buddy to pick a massage table and  
stand by it. . .We'll have more instructions as we go along."

Harriet and I stand then head into the next room which is, I must say,  
absolutely gorgeous. There are several Oriental looking pictures, diagrams  
and ying yangs galore. There are french windows which give us a beautiful  
view of the water gardens outside. As I am admiring, Willow comes in and  
tells us to place our sheets on the tables, we do so and then, without any  
fanfare, no warning what so ever she shouts out. "Alright, one of you get  
naked and get under the sheet."

The ones who have, obviously, done this before, waste no time in working out  
the nakedness issue. Harriet, myself and about six others are standing  
there, staring at Willow as if she'd lost her mind. "I'm sorry Willo..Rain.  
. .umm"

"Rainsong." She cheerily corrects me as she heads over to our table. "What  
seems to be the problem. . .?" Will..erm, Rainsong, bows her head slightly,  
waiting for me to give her a name. Damn do I have to give her my real one?

"Sarah!" Harriet blurts out and I feel like killing her. I'm not joking  
when I don't give that name out to most people.

A glare towards Harriet has her treading water, I think, if we were at the  
office, she'd be as appologetic as could be. "Actually, it's Mac. .  
.everyone calls me Mac."

Rainsong frowns slightly. I know where this is going. "Mac? But, that's a  
man's name. Sarah is so. .. so beautiful. Did you know it means. . ."

"Princess? Yes. Do you know how many men have located that factoid to  
impress me?" I shoot back and by her look of. . .of, hell, there isn't a  
name for that look, she's not impressed. "Anyway, do we have to get naked?"

The woman, who now clearly has some sort of disdain for me, smiles sweetly,  
her voice just a little short of being fully sarcastic. "It's massage, get  
over it!"

And she's serious. Serious and standing their waiting for one of us to hit  
the rack. .. um bed. "I'll umm. .. go first, Harriet." Hey, I've done  
worse when I was a kid. I strip down to my skivvies, then slide under the  
blanket. Before Wingsong. .. no Rainwater. .. WHATEVER her name is, can say  
a thing I reach down, remove my underwear and then my bra.

Willow wind and rain is still staring at me. "Dear, you are SUPINE. I need  
you to be in the prone position."

Okay, if she mentions the word 'position' one more time, I am out of here.  
The only person I want to talk about positions with is Harm. "Prone?"

"Yes, on your chest, with your face in the cradle? When you lay on your  
back, that's supine." Then she goes off, now speaking to the whole class -  
who, I might add, is pissed at our little detour in learning - giving a  
little rhyme about 'Supine: On Your Spine!' The pair in front of us giggles  
and finds it cute. I'm not amused.

I lay there, waiting for Harriet to begin and, maybe it's not so bad, this  
table IS comfy. I sigh deeply, allowing myself to relax when Harriet's bone  
cold hands touch my back. "Jesus Harriet!" I yell and get shhhhhhhhhed for  
my efforts. "Sorry." I yell again, raising my head up from the cradle to  
find the group still a bit peeved.

Harriet's chuckling. "Sorry." I don't think she is though.

So we go through this whole routine that starts at the upper back and moves  
downward in a flowing motion. Next we progress to using forearms with this  
very nice smelling oil. "Oww!" Harriet missed and clocked me on the head. Come to think of it, maybe she did it on purpose.

"Sorry." She giggles. Yup. Definately did it on purpose!

An hour later, we break for lunch and we find outselves sitting with Willow/Rainwhatever. "So, Sarah, how are you enjoying the class so far?"

"I have to admit, it's nice being pampered for an hour." I joke and Willow, who's just been irritated with me since the get go, gives me a menacing look.

"So you're all into taking is that it?"

I raise my hand up in surrender. "No, no. . .That was a joke."

She does thish harumffing noise and sticks her nose up in the air. Okay, who the hell made her the last Coca-Cola in the desert? "If you aren't serious about this, why take the class?"

Alright, that does it! "Look, missy. . .I didn't even KNOW about this class, my friend here brought me. . .And second of all, how the hell would you know if I am into giving or receiving. I'll have you know, anything I learn here will be used on my boyfriend, got it?" I get up to leave, but decide to make one final point, "Oh, and for someone who supposedly 'in tune with the universe.'" I make qutation figures as I say this. "You sure as hell are acting like a snob. . .I was never rude to you, this is new to me. . . and yes, alright, I don't like being touched. I'm a Marine and in Bootcamp we don't teach touchy feely unless it's my boot on someone's chest!"

The group around me starts clapping and for a moment, I feel like I've entered another dimension. I've just told off THEIR teacher, I mean, some of these people KNOW her and they are applauding! To my delirious shock, Rainchic stands up and hugs me. ANd I am not talking about a little hug, I mean it's a full on BEAR hug that I'm not even sure Harm could administer. "Oh, Sarah, that's so wonderful! You've broken through! You've released your pain. . ." She's crying. No, really. She's CRYING. I can feel the tears on my shirt. From behind RainWHATEVER I can see Harriet giving me an odd look which I shrug off. Looking around, I see other women crying and hugging. "Let's go everyone! Back to the tables." She says when I'm finally let go of. Smiling, she takes my face in my hands and pinches my cheeks. "You're going to be good at this, I can tell." As the Rain starts to head back into the studio, she throws over her shoulder. "You know, I've had two military types quit their job and become full time massage therapists."

"How wonderful." Over my dead body am I leaving the Marines to massage people. Hell no.

This time, Harriet is laying on the table. . .naked. I do my very best to avoid, what I am chosing to call, 'sacred territory', and get on with some Swedish massage who's techniques are French words. I do this effleurage type of thing, where you are basically gliding your hands over the person's back without very much pressure. Then, I begin using my fists to put pressure along the side of the spine. Thirty minutes later, I am sweating, my legs feel like I've ran a marathon from all of this squatting and I am trying to keep my balance while I do this forearm thing. You basically use your forearm and run it down one side of the back, slide up, slip in the other forearm and then work on the shoulder blades with a rolling motion before starting it all over again. Willow obviously likes my "posture" she keeps commenting on it. "Good job, Sarah! Great posture, that Warrior's Stance is fantastic." Yea, it had to be called that didn't it? "Everyone watch the Marine."

So now, I have two dozen pairs of eyes on me, watching as I do this forearm thing to Harriet who is grinning like an idiot. "You so owe me for this." I whisper, then straighten up and continue the routine. "Harm better be grateful for this." And later today I was going to find out just how grateful he was.

**LATER THAT EVENING**

"Mmmm. . .yes. God, your hands are so wonderful."

"Is that the spot?"

"Umm, how'd you know?"

"There's a knot. . .I'll work it out, just keep breathing it might hurt a  
little."

"Your hands are divine. . .I swear, DEVINE."

"Yeah, sure. . .You just say that because you don't want me to stop."

"This is true. . .Oooh, yea. . .Wow. . .OH! My God, yes. . ."

"Is this sex or massage?"

"It can be both." I grin, cracking an eye open as I stare at Harm who has  
my foot in his hand, working on my arches. "Did I tell you to stop?" I  
motion towards my feet, chuckling as he continues with a huff. The man is  
so cute.

Reaching over, Harm grabs my other foot and gets to work. "Weren't YOU the  
one that took a massage course?"

Yes, I can see where he's going with this... but. "Your point?"

"Shouldn't you be massaging ME?" It's cute that he actually dared to get  
that out.

"And I will, but I was on my feet for six hours, massaging, learning how  
to set up that stupid table and. . ." God this is embarrassing. "Rainsong  
stepped on me." No really, she did. It's a type of massage. Thai, maybe?  
Anyway, she got up on the table and stepped on my foot with her own. I am  
not sure what people find gratifying about that. It hurt like hell!  
According to her it had something to do with my archs and the high heels.  
Whatever!

Harm chuckles. "Rainsong?"

"Don't ask. . .It was a long day." I sit up and slide closer to Harm. "You know, all of this got me thinking. . .maybe we should quit the military and become professional massage therapists?" I say as seriously as possible. I'm joking, of course, but by the Rabb-In-The-Headlights look, he doesn't think so.

"Massage?" He says flatly, apparently the idea doesn't seem plausible to him.

I nod with a big ol' grin. "Yea, we can start our own place, maybe even go around to corporations and massage groups. . .We can call ourselves. . ." Hmm, think of a name, think of a name. "Flyboy and NinjaGirl."

At that, the horrified look washes away from his face only to be replaced by a grin. "You had me for a second or two there, Marine."

"Yes, I know." Grabbing his hand, I pull him up. "C'mon, Squid, bedtime."

"Aww, no massage?"

"Not that kind, no." I say and his mouth falls open. I just love making my flyboy squirm!


	41. Just A Little Tight

Nope! Haven't forgotten about this one. Just ran out of ideas and lost the file while I kept all of the ideas. Sucks too, I remember some funny ones. Just, obviously don't remember them THAT well. ;)

Enjoy!

Jackie

Part 41 - **Just A Little Tight**

I pause outside the door to Mac's apartment when I hear some sort of, animal like noise coming from inside. "What the. . ." Curious, I press my ear to the door and hear her voice hitting the kind of octaves that it only does when we're making love.

Okay, I am logical, I _know_ she won't cheat on me, but the fact that Assassin is doing his one and only 'my owners are getting it on' howl, has me, slightly worried. I remain against the door, certain that at any moment, Mac's neighbor will have me arrested for doing the peeping tom/date rapist thing.

"Oh, yes!" Mac moans out, followed but something of a disappointed groan. "I know it's tight! But, c'mon!" She grunts again, the moans and. . .oh jeez! Assassin's howling is now louder. You know, standing out here, from this vantage point I realize that, her neighbors must not like us very much.

Anyway, back to the case at hand. I hear something being knocked over, a lamp by the sound of it and then hear Mac loud and clearly. "Shit! This wasn't part of the plan."

Well, you know what they say about the best laid plans. She grunts out once more and that's when I've latterly had enough. Using my key, I try the door only to realize that I've just locked myself out. Which could only mean that the door was unlocked to begin with. "What the hell is going on?" I unlock the door and step in, unbelieving that Mac had left the door unlocked while she was. . .doing cartwheels?

Or attempting to, I think.

After dropping my briefcase and placing my cover on the top of the coat rack, I turn my head to the side, trying to better gauge what was going on. Mac's wearing jeans and an old, girlie, wife beater that she uses only when cleaning the house. It's a grungy look, but that doesn't stop her from looking sexy. She's standing, feet, shoulder width apart, knees bent and her head down, almost as if she's trying to stretch or touch her toes. Mac grunts out again and Assassin, who is jumping up and down around her starts to howl.

I lean against the closed door, watching with great interest as she squats down, really low and then has this whole issue when trying to get back up. Like a wild animal, she claws. . .erm, reaches for the sofa and then pulls herself up, an action that makes her look like she's been taking classes at mime school. Next she flops to the floor, rolls on her back and brings her knees up to her chest.

Maybe this is something she learned in the Corps? Some sort of Marine, death, relaxation? I dare to make myself known, when she stands back up. "Umm, Mac?"

"OWW!" Oh shit! I broke her!

"Mac!" I race across the room to my fiancé who, in the middle of trying to do a split was, shocked by my presence and, apparently injured.

Mac's grabbing her left inner thigh with one hand and smacking me with the other. "Do. Not. Sneak. Up. On. Me. Ever. Again!" She punctuates with each smack and then, realizing she can't get up by herself, gives me her hand. It's amazing how quickly Sarah MacKenzie's facial expressions can go from irritated to sweet and saccharine, to just plain cute!

While she's quite thin – not unhealthily so, but you get my drift – trying to raise up her dead weight is a bit of a feat in the position she's in. I manage but not without her biting back about twenty different curse words and a few that I am positive I've never heard before. "Woah, there Marine." I ease her onto the sofa and then stand in front of her, hands on my hips. "Can I get you something?"

"Water. Advil." She huffs out, her hand still clutching her inner thigh. "I think I pulled my groin muscle." Okay so she wasn't grabbing her thigh, I sigh.

"Ouch." I've had that happen once while playing B-ball with Sturgis, not fun, not pleasant. Hurts like hell. "Hang on a sec, let me get one of the compression packs in the microwave."

I hear her groan out in frustration, apparently this just wasn't in the agenda of whatever she was doing. "Great. . .Just freaking great! Forget the pack, Harm, I won't be able to get out of these jeans!" She yells.

When I step out of the kitchen with the water and Advil, I find Mac with the button and fly of her jeans undone while she sits there with an arm draped over her eyes. "Here, babe." I feed her the Advils and Mac takes the water, taking a big gulp before going back to her original position. I probably shouldn't ask, but. . .curiosity and that damned cat. . . "Don't kill me, but. . .what the hell were you doing? It sounded like you were getting it on in here. . .Ooops."

Okay, so I really didn't mean to say that last part, but. . . Mac peaks at me with one open eye and still manages to do that eyebrow thing. It's not the cute eyebrow thing either, this is the. . .Oh, here it comes. "You gotta be kidding me right?" She snorts out with laughter. "Oww." She winces and then continues laughing again. For a good two minutes she is caught between a wincing and laughing spree then stops abruptly.

"It wasn't funny, Mac. . .Then I hear the lamp getting knocked down and walk in to find you. . .doing cartwheels."

She's laughing again and making me squirm in the process. Damn that woman. My frustration grows with each second that ticks by. Finally fully annoyed, I fold my arms across my chest and stand in front of her in a pose that is so like mom's it's scary. "Mac."

Waving one finger at me, she asks for a second as she takes a gulp of water. "God, I can't imagine what that must have looked like to you."

"It was amusing, that's for sure."

She fights laughing again, and then blurts out, "I was stretching my jeans." Her face takes a deep shade of pink. "They were a just a little tight. . .and you know, when they are tight you usually need to do some sort of gymnastics to get into them."

Gymnastics! "Holy Hell, woman, how tight do you buy your jeans? You know, I really don't get you females with the tight jean thing." Really, isn't breathing more important?

That look of pain disappears completely to be covered by an utterly sinful look. "Baby, if we don't buy our jeans slightly tight, our six wouldn't look as nice in them."

Seriously, how can you argue against that logic? "Okay, I can't argue with that. . .but, maybe buy them a _little_ bigger." She can buy a paper bag for all she wants, Mac would _still_ look hot!

"They are only super tight because of you." She points out, that sinful look disappearing by the second. "You washed them."

"You normally wash dirty clothes. At least, I do." And so does she, I mean I've _seen_ her putting her jeans in the wash!

Mac nods. "Yeah, but you don't stick the jeans in the dryer. . .At least, not unless they are stretch jeans. . .I mean, you stick them in the dryer and then they get so tight that not even a Barbie doll could slip them on."

Alright, now there's a logic I can and will argue with. "Mac, I dry my jeans all the time and I still fit in them." With some light aerobic seeing as I am not the type to walk around with jeans that hang six feet away from my ass with my boxers showing.

"Uh huh, and I've seen you getting into them. . .You do this. . .jump and twist."

"Jump and twist?" What, now she's stalking the way I put on clothes? Okay, fine, so it boosts my ego! "I don't jump and twist."

Her chuckle says otherwise. "Yes you do. . .You sit on the edge of the bed to slide them up to your thighs, and then, you stand up, jump a few times so that they slide up and the twist so that they settle into place. . .I've seen you do it and, I gotta say, you got some nice moves, flyboy. . .I mean, I'd show you but I am in a slight bit of pain here." She finishes with a saucy grin and a wink.

Alright, so maybe. . .maybe, she has a point there, though I've never caught myself jumping and twisting before. "Okay, fine, so we all like to buy 'fitted' jeans." I am not calling them tight, I am choosing to call them fitted, so hah!

"Fitted? Okay, fine. . .fitted it is." Curling her index finger, she beckons me over and plants a soft kiss on my lips. "I might need some help getting out of these jeans."

Ah, one of the things that I am good at. Really, I am! I can have Mac's jeans off of her in two fluid motions. That has to count for some Guinness record. "That's a Rabb specialty."

Mac nods in agreement, then places a hand on my chest. "Yup, however, a little more than two motions is going to be needed for this event. . .and, where's the hot pack?"

I sigh, then head towards the kitchen. Marrying Mac is definitely going to be an adventure, that's for sure. But I do have to agree with one thing, her six _does_ look good when those jeans are just a little tight.


	42. Soap Suds

It's official, I need to start writing in the shower. I might get electrocuted, but good stories will show up. The first part of this story CRACKED me up. I mean I could just see Harm with his hands over his pecs trying to explain to Mac what he meant. So cute! You'll see what I mean. LOL!

Enjoy!  
Jackie

PART 42 – Soap Suds

"You're not wearing that."

I raise a brow and grin. "I know you didn't just say that."

"Maaac! All the guys in a ten mile radius will show up just to see your. . .your. . .your. . .uh." Harm's hands move up to his chest where he's doing this rounding movement over his pecs. "You know, your. . ."

God, he's so cute when he's flustered. I decide that he means to say, "Boobs, Harm?" He bites his lower lip and nods dumbly. Alright, I can understand that, but considering that he is standing there in swim drunks and sandals, sans shirt, I have a few concerns myself. "Babe, every woman in an eleven mile radius will show up just to see your pecs, your arms, your six pack, not to mention that ass of yours." I smile cheekily, then turn away from him to take the supplies out of his car. "In fact, I'll be that more women show up to see _you_ then men who will show up to see _me._"

Honestly, this suit isn't _that_ bad. I mean, I am wearing running shorts (which go a little higher than mid-thigh) and a bikini top which is pretty modest. I'm not like, flaunting major cleavage or anything. Technically, I am more dressed than Harm is!

What would make us have this attire? A trip to the beach, maybe? Nope.

It's noon on Sunday and the whole JAG staff has assembled at a gas station a few blocks away from JFK Stadium. Throughout the year several different opportunities come up for us to have charity events for various military organizations. The events are always fun, usually sports related and one of us always ends up injured. Last year we had a tennis match and I wound up with a black eye when an exuberate Coates clocked me with the ball, then spent the better half of an hour apologizing. This time, however, our resident busybody, Harriet, had convinced the General that we should have a car wash.

Harm runs up to his car and leans against it, preventing me from opening the door. There's this cocky, smile and I can see a challenge ensuing. Oh yes, our marriage, definitely will be exciting. We're never done one upping each other. "Wanna bet on that?"

"Bet?" I raise a brow in question. He's not going to bet on how many cars we wash from the opposite sex is he?

That smile widens just a little more. "Yup. A bet. You versus me. Men versus women. . .I bet that more men come to you to wash their cars than women will come to me."

Hmm, I've never been one to turn down a bet, especially from Harm. "Deal." I extend my hand and we shake on it.

"In any case, I _know_ how men operate. . .We're just dirtier than you girls."

"Oh you don't know women, Rabb." I snort out as I shove him out of the way to grab the bags in his car. Why is it that men honestly believe we are such angels? God, if they only had an idea just how bad _we_ can be. "We're just as bad as guys. . .and you know what?"

He takes a few more bags then kicks his door shut. "No I don't know what."

"You guys are just as bad as girls."

The look on his face challenges this tidbit. "Oh really? Enlighten me, Colonel."

Ah, it's just one word really. "Gossip. . .You guys gossip just as much as we do." I turn, stopping just in front of Harm, standing on my toes to give him a kiss. "Let the battles begin."

I feel his eyes on me as I sway my way over to the gas station and the line of cars that had started to form. "Alright, let's go!"

An Eclipse with a rather cute looking young man drives up. Harriet, Jen and I work together, quickly lathering up the car with soap suds, rinsing and then drying. The three of us have similar outfits, Jen wearing girlie Bermudas and a bikini top (she claims not to like her legs much) and Harriet wearing jean shorts and a bikini top. For a mother of four, the woman sure has flat abs! Mental note: when Harm and I have kids, turn to Harriet for work out routines. I think she mentioned something called Pilate's, I might have to check that out.

Bud's the only one that's pretty much fully dressed. He's always self conscious about showing his leg and decided to wear a t-shirt and track pants. Deciding that he preferred to stay dry, he's been doing a fabulous job of taking care of the money. Sturgis is also modestly dressed wearing running shorts and a tank top while General Cresswell is wearing a USMC t-shirt and shorts. Both of them are helping Harm and while the girls and I finish two cars, they are still at the one.

Keeping my eye on the competition, I find exactly what I thought I would. There's Commander Rabb, bleached blond bimbo at his side. And, guess what? She's actually HELPING him wash the car. Yup, the woman is bending over the hood, her boobs doing a better job applying the sudsy mixture than her hands do. Oh brother. Harm's doing his best to ignore her, moving to the tires. This only seems to catch the woman's attention. Course, it doesn't help that he's bent over, those trunks stretching across that six of his. I mean, really Harm!

Grabbing the hose, I start to wet down a Ford Ranger carrying three exuberant, male, National's fans and one, bored to death, female. I'm not sure how it happened – hehehehehe – but some of the water flies over the Ranger hitting both Harm and the woman. "Woops! Hose got away from me." I say, non too innocently as he turns and gives me a death look. "Hurry, Commander, you got a line waiting."

Harm's middle finger comes up to the side of his face as he pretends to remove an imaginary speck of dirt. "You might wanna do the same, Colonel."

I can't believe he just flipped me off. Jerk! "Uh huh, you work on your cars, I'll work on mine." That was lame, I know. Sorry! I can't have a good comeback all of the time! Amused, I turn back to our new patrons and work on their vehicle, ever so often eyeing Harm.

Three more cars pass by on our ends, all full of guys, one of which ended up giving the three of us a five dollar tip – each! Hah! Alright, so maybe Harm was right? I won't tell him that though. The next time I take a look at my fiancé I find, not a woman, but a man, who looks to be in his thirties, standing outside of his car eyeing Harm with interest.

Putting down the sponge, I watch for a moment, thoroughly amused at how Harm's trying to cover his torso. It really doesn't work and I expect that any moment, his current patron will ask for his number. Shaking my head, I turn back to our client and finish the car with a flourish.

It is the next client that really had too much fun with the three of us. "Mind if I take a picture?" Harriet, Jen and I shrug and agree, standing in front of his car. He snaps two shots and then smiles in a stalker kinda way. "Could you three stand like the girls in Charlie's Angels?"

"Charlie's Angels?" He's gotta be kidding me right? I mean to protest, when I find Harm, Cresswell, Sturgis and Bud all standing behind the guy, all with matching grins. I feel like we've been had. "Sure, that would be great." Harriet and Jen position me between them and I stick my hand forward and up, pretending to be firing a gun. Jen points to the right and Harriet to the left. "Wait!" I say, remembering one key detail to the show. "The blond is always in the middle." I slide Harriet into place and we all strike our poses again.

As the day starts to wind down, so do the cars. Over the radio we hear that the National's game has begun and most of the crowd has headed to the game. While I start to lather up another car, I feel a cold splash of water against my back. "Hey!" Before spinning around I know who it is.

Harm has this sexy grin as he takes the hose and points it at me. "Hands up, Colonel." He sprays my abdomen and I try my best to block the shot. "Surrender or else."

"Yea, like that's gonna happen?" I dive behind the car, grab for the bucket and pull out two soapy sponges. From underneath I can see Harm's feet, he's getting nearer. Quickly, I stand up, tossing one sponge at him. It's a direct hit! Peaking over the back of the car, I find Harm with soap sliding off the side of his face. "Oooh oooh, sunk your battleship, did I Rabb?"

For some reason, we can't get out of military metaphors. "Come out of your foxhole, MacKenzie, I'll show you." I move towards the front of the car, crouching down by the passenger's door, holding the second sponge. The owner of the car is just standing to the side, a bewildered look on her face. I raise up slightly then toss the other sponge at him. It's a direct hit, but as a result I am hit as well with another cold shot.

Reaching down I pick up our hose and shoot an arch of water over the car and towards Harm. If his yelp is any indication, I got him. "You were saying, Rabb?"

I try to move around the front of the car, only to feel to soapy arms wrapping around my torso. Despite our little battle, I don't resist and become his willing captive. "Gotcha, Colonel." He whispers into my ear then turns me around to face him. "So? . . .I got twenty girls."

I nod. "Yes and I saw a few of those girls helping out." Four to be exact all with interesting car cleanliness methods. "And I had twenty guys." Seriously, it was dead even, so much for our theories.

"So does that mean we're signing a treaty and calling it a truce?" He grins, his hands sliding up and down my spine.

Truce? Yea, well. "Why not? I figure we can be civil for now." Grinning, I come up to my toes and kiss the tip of his nose. "Did I ever tell you now cute you look with soap suds all over you?"

Harm takes some of the suds sliding off of him and smother them over my nose. "Not as cute as you."

As we lean in to kiss, I can over hear the owner of the vehicle talking to General Cresswell. "Honey, were you and I like this when we were younger?"

The General chuckles and out of the corner of my eye I see him kiss his wife. "Nope, we were worse."


	43. Sharing Cooties

I wrote this when I was sick and, guess what I am sick again today! I'm  
thinking it's the chlorine in the gym's pool!

Anyway...Despite the name of this chapter, I'm not sharing my cooties. ;) And NO you're not sharing Harm. He belongs to ME and Mac. And since, technically speaking, Mac can kick my ass, he's all Mac's! ;)

Jackie  
PS: Thanks to V for encouraging me to post this!

**Part 43 – Sharing Cooties**

"I want to make love to you, Mac." I hear my voice, a combination of husky and nasally tell my gorgeous fiancé who is laying beneath me on her bed.

Mac trails a line of kisses across my jaw, then stops and chuckles. "Uh huh, so what's stopping you?"

Well, that's an easy enough thing to answer. See, I have no idea what the hell happened between yesterday and today, but we're sick. Both of us are sick and no, it's not an excuse to play hooky! Yesterday after the whole care wash adventure, I arrived home with a sore throat and failed to stop making from kissing me. I mean, I told her that I felt sick, but Mac was confident that it was just a chill and she wouldn't catch whatever had been trying to creep its way into my body. Hah! This thing is like The Black Plauge! It'll get you!

So, around six in the evening, yesterday, her throat started hurting. It was then that I realized I'd shared my cooties with her. By midnight, we were both hacking up lungs, sitting with a roll of toilet paper each to stop the running faucets that our noses had become. All night long it seemed we were gripped in the hands of death. The moment my fever would die off, Mac's temperature would spike up. If Mac's headache went away, then I would pick up where she left off. Taking care of each other took on a new meaning when each of us were tempted to toss the other off the bed. Every time I would get comfy, she'd start coughing. If she was starting to fall asleep, I'd start sneezing. All in all, I think we each got a good two hours of sleep. Yup, we definitely have the plague, make no bones about that!

It is, for these reasons that my want to make love to Mac causes a bit of a concern. "Babe, I feel like shit, so do you. . .I don't think that's an awesome combination for great sex." Not that it matters, I mean, I don't really think that Mac and I could have bad sex if we tried. It's one of life's great pleasures!

Mac's chocolate brown eyes say otherwise though. Her nose is chaffed and red, her eyes are puffy and her hair is a mess. But, why is it that she still looks sexy? "And your point is?" Her hand slides down my back, nails raking my skin gently. "We'll take it nice and slow."

Nice and slow? "I like the sound of that." We kiss slowly and passionately, all the while laughing as she tries to remove my t-shirt without breaking body contact. It's a little more difficult than one would think. I lean to the side, resting on my elbow and help her remove my shirt which flies across the bed onto a lamp on the nightstand.

Mac's legs wrap around my waist as she tugs me to her. Her fingers caress my scalp as she lowers my head down to hers for another series of kisses. Somewhere between removing her underwear and kissing her neck, I hear, what has got to be a knock on the door. "Ignore it." She says, turning my head so that I am facing her again. "Don't stop."

"Okay." Ignore. Don't stop. Yes, I can do that! I kiss Mac's cheeks, the tip of her nose, then start to work my way down to her neck. She does this little, sexy growl and I try to ignore the incessant knocking, but it's just not going away.

Sighing, she pushes me back slightly. "Must be important." Mac attempts to roll out from under me, but I pin her down.

"I'll get it." It makes logical sense that I be the one to attend to the door. I am more dressed than she is - wearing black sweatpants and no shirt, to her only wearing underwear. "Just, don't move. . .I'll be back in a flash." I kiss her goodbye, then hop off the bed. "Woah." A feeling of vertigo hits me and it's then that I realize, again, just how sick we both are – no pun intended.

"You alright?"

I nod. "Yea, just a little dizzy. . .And I am blaming you for it." I wink at her, then make my way to the living room. Without looking through the peephole, I throw the door open to find Harriet, in the uniform of the day, standing on the other side.

"Harm! You look like shi. . .hell." Harriet says with a gentle smile, I notice she's carrying a grocery bag I assume it's, "I brought some soup." She's glancing at me with a bewildered expression, her eyes darting up to my head. Self-consciously, I brush my hand over my hair, knowing full well that it's probably sticking up all over the place.

Opening the door wider, I allow her to step in. "Not sure if you want to come in here, I'm sure Mac and I have the plague." Self-consciously, I try to smooth down my hair again only to feel it spike up again. Mac running her fingers through it doubtfully made much of an improvement.

Harriet waves me off. "AJ and Bud were sick last week, whatever it is, I'm immune." She grins impishly, then stares me down. "You know, if you want to get better, you may want to put on a shirt."

Woops, I'd forgotten about that. "Oh, yea. . .I'll be right back. . .Just a minute." I raise up my index finger, turn on my heel, hoping that she doesn't see Mac's kitty cat scratches. Not that it really matters, but, we're supposed to be sick, not at home, in bed, trying to. . .

"Hey, Harriet's. . ." My thoughts trail off as I spot Mac, completely naked and in a sexy pose in the middle of the bed. "Damn."

"See something you like, sailo. . .ATCHOOO!" A series of sneezes manages to tame my Marine's wild streak. With a pout, she reaches over to the nightstand, grabs the roll of toilet paper, takes out a wad and starts to blow her nose.

I chuckle. "So much for that. . .Why don't you toss some clothes on? Harriet's here."

Mac sniffles, then sneezes again. "Ugh! I'll be out in a sex. . .uh, sec." She smiles sheepishly at me and then points over to my shirt on the lampshade. "You might want atchooo! To put. . .atchooooo! that on." She says, then mutters a series of curses that would make a sailor blush.

I take my shirt, then head out of the room to find some sort of smell coming from the kitchen. Seeing as one of my nostrils is clogged, I can't exactly figure out if the smell is good or bad. On the kitchen table, I spot two bowls, a bottle of ginger ale and some bread. Yup, Harriet's motherly instincts go into hyper drive whenever one of us gets sick. "Hey, Harriet, you didn't have to do all of this."

She has her jacket removed and is only wearing the white blouse, with sleeves rolled up. "Course I did. . .I'm pretty sure it's Bud's bug that you caught. Not to mention that little water fight yesterday. . .Besides, I'll be out of your hair in no time." She winks conspiringly, then grabs a ladle and spins it around in the soup.

"Hey Harriet." Mac, who looks worse now that she is on her feet, stumbles into the kitchen wearing her ratty PJs and bathrobe. Did I mention how cute she looks? "You shouldn't be here. . .Harm and I are. . ."

"Dying. . .We have the plague." I supply for her, leaning up against a cabinet when standing on my own two feet manages to become a chore.

Reaching up, Mac presses the back of her hand onto my forehead. "You feel warm."

"You do too." I counter, using the same 'hand on the forehead' method on her.

Harriet's standing there, watching us, with a comical expression, then begins, sarcastically, "Rather than using that, oh so helpful, hand on forehead method, why don't one of you get me a thermometer?" When neither Mac nor I move a muscle, she places her hand on her hips. Oh shit, she means business. "That wasn't a request."

"Yes, ma'am." Mac and I mumble at the same time, both of us heading out of the kitchen.

Ten minutes later, we've both been thermometerized and drugged – Harriet made us each take two aspirins to lower the fever. Now, Mac and I sit, alone eating some soup that I can't quite taste. "My taste buds are shot to hell." Mac mumbles and this makes me feel marginally better.

I chew on a piece of bread and sigh. "You think that this is some sort of punishment?"

"Ugh, I don't know, but keep your cooties to yourself next time, mister."

"Hey, I told you not to kiss me and you did anyway!"

Mac stares at my coyly, then sighs. "Like I can resist kissing you?" To make her point, she leans in and places a chaste kiss on my lips. "Could be worse. . .We could be sick _and_ alone." She stands up, takes my hand and tugs gently. Like a puppy, I follow her towards the sofa. Mac places a hand on my chest, then pushes me down, an act that is quite easy in my weakened state. Awww, hell, okay, so I let her do it. "Where were we?" She purrs, then straddles my lap.

We begin another marathon make out session combined with post nasal drip, coughing and wheezing, when there's another knock on the door. "Shit." I curse as I stand up quickly, the action causing Mac to slide off of my lap and hit her six on the floor. "Oooh, damn, I'm sorry."

She staring at me with a look that would kill as I help her up. "Jesus, Harm. . .a warning would have been nice." I try not to stare as she heads towards the kitchen rubbing her six.

Opening the door, I am surprised to find General Cresswell on the other side. "Commander." He says with a perplexed expression on his face.

"Sir, did you come to check on us too?"

His eyes, for some reason, keep going to the tip of my head before he points up. "Interesting place for a t-shirt."

"For a what?" Touching my head I feel the fabric underneath my fingers. How in the world did she manage to take my shirt off without me noticing? Damn, I really am sick! "Oh! Excuse me." I make a project out of lowering my shirt and nearly ended up sticking my head through one of the holes for the arms. Cresswell, who I am sure is not finding this amusing, helps out, then straightens the shirt for me. For a moment I feel like I am ten again with my mother straightening my Boy Scout uniform. "Ah, Thank you, sir."

We stand there for a moment, staring at each other when it dawns on him that I haven't let him in. "Can I come in, Commander?"

"Oh, yes, please." I step aside, holding the door open for him and that's when I remember one little, teeny, tiny detail. This is MAC'S APARTMENT. I mean, I know that he knows that we're together, but maybe this is a bit. . .odd. God, it _does_ look like we're playing hooky!

"Here's some files for you. . .Commander Roberts got held up in court today and asked me to swing them by."

"Thank you, sir." I say, taking the file and leafing through it.

Mac chooses this moment in time to emerge from the kitchen holding a Ziploc full of ice to her six. "General." The ice slips from her hands, crashing to the floor and leaving one big, wet, mess.

Cresswell immediately starts to help. "It's alright, Colonel, I've got it. . .You and the Commander should be resting. . I need you two at 110 percent ASAP. Don't forget, you two are prosecuting at the Newton court martial." He collects the ice, placing it back into the bag, then takes a cloth from the table to wipe the floor. This has got to be the most surreal thing I'll ever see – a CO mopping up his officer's floor. Wow! Wish I had a camera. When he's done, Cresswell straightens and then pins us with a glare. I swear, the man, sometimes, scares me. "So how _are_ the two of you feeling?"

"Atchoooo." Mac sneezes out violently, causing the General to, literally, take cover. "Better, sir."

He's not too convinced. "If that's better. . . then."

I feel a tickling sensation in my throat and try to hold it back as much as possible, but it's no use. The cough comes out sounding like I swallowed a small fury animal and it takes me a good minute to stop it. "Sorry, sir." I wheeze out. "This is like the plague."

"That's awfully dramatic, Commander." Cresswell points out, arms across his chest in that macho pose he likes to use.

"It's true, sir." Mac counters with a heavy sigh. "I've never felt this sick in my life."

For some reason, Cresswell loses the macho pose and takes a few steps back. "Uh, whatever it is. . .make sure you two keep it out of the office, the last thing I need is for everyone to be out sick." He doesn't wait for us to answer and instead flies out the door. That was odd.

I feel Mac's hand slip into mind as she tugs me towards the bedroom this time. Oh, please, please, please, I am in no shape to do anything other than sleep. "Just sleep this time." She says to my surprise. "This whole trying to make love while sick thing is just. . .just too. . ."

"Tiring? I know." Happily, I settle in to bed with my Marine nestled in my arms. . .until the next round of sneezing, wheezing and coughing start up.

Two Days Later. 

I step into the bullpen and find that the normal hustle and bustle is. . .quiet. All of our staff members are there, but there just isn't that normal clatter. What gives? "Commander? General Cresswell wishes to see you, the Colonel is already in there." Yup, course she is. Mac left her place before I did and didn't get stuck in the traffic jam from hell.

"Thank you, Petty Officer." I tell Coates, handing her my cover and briefcase.

I weave my way through the bull pen and step into the outer office to find Mac sitting, nervously, in one of the wooden chairs. "Hey, took you long enough."

"Traffic. . .What did we do now?" I say, nodding towards the door.

Mac just shrugs. "Dunno, but it's serious if he doesn't want me going inside without you."

I just got a thought and it's not a particularly good one. "Maybe he knows?" Though Mac's done a good job at hiding the engagement ring, scuttlebutt usually prevails. No, we haven't told anyone yet. Sue me if we want to keep it a secret for a little while. Knocking firmly on the door, we wait for Cresswell's command before stepping in. "Sir?" He's not sitting behind his desk, but rather is laying across the sofa with a white rag over his forehead.

"Commander, Colonel. . ." He says, his voice sounding quite nasally. Oh shit, we got him sick didn't we? "Has an officer ever been court-martialed for giving their commanding officer the plague?" He groans as he tries to sit up. It seems to take a valiant effort, but, Cresswell fails. "Aww, hell, I'm the _JAG_. I'll lay down if I want to."

Mac's frowning. "Is there something we can do, sir?"

Cresswell nods, his appearance suddenly changing into something less volatile and more childlike. "Shoot me."

I chuckle at his remark. "That's awfully dramatic, sir."

That little joke didn't sway him one bit. "Commander, drop and give me fifty." Now, I've pissed off plenty of people, but I've never had my commanding officer make me do PT! "Do I need to make it one hundred, Commander?"

"No, sir!" I yell out and then drop, still wearing my sports jacket and start to count off loudly as we've been trained to do.

Hearing Cresswell grimace, it takes a lot of discipline for me not to look up at him. "Commander, keep it down. . .Colonel, go get me some aspirin and next time, please don't share your cooties."

It seems to me that in life, we're always learning lessons. So what did I learn this time? 1. Don't share your cooties with anyone! 2. If you do share your cooties make sure you do not piss off a Marine General.


	44. Dogtags Only!

This was a friends idea, well, the dogtags only part. The rest of the idea  
I got from a JAG story I read once that briefly mentions Harm buying this.  
Enjoy. ;)  
JAckie

**Part 44 – Dogtags Only!**

"Oh, thank you God!" I say, rather loudly when the taxi stops outside of Harm's apartment. I hand the cabby the fare, tipping him generously for the expeditious way he helped me arrive to my final destination. "Thank you." I take my luggage from the man and quickly head up to see Harm.

He doesn't know I'm arriving early, this was a surprise.

The last week and a half I've been in Italy, attempting to locate a client that decided to skip town. We did find her and the convening authorities pushed to have her tried aboard the Stennis which was anchored just off the coast of Venice. I sigh at the memory, wishing Harm could have joined me on the trip. I realize I've been turning into somewhat of a romantic sap, but, I don't think anyone could go to Venice and not have the cities charm beg for you to spend it with someone you love. The Bridge of Sighs, the Gondolas, ah well, maybe for our honeymoon?

In the evenings, from the hotel the Navy had set me up in, I'd used my laptop in order to keep in touch. The first conversations were short, he was too busy to talk and I was too exhausted to stay up. The tone, however, seemed to change dramatically as we each began more risqué methods of communication. In layman's term – we had cyber sex and lots of it.

At first, it was just plain silly, Harm seemed as nervous as a virgin on their first date and I was afraid that I would type something just a little too dirty for my prudish flyboy. For some reason, we'd never really had a problem with phone sex, then again, usually all that consisted of was a lot of moaning and groaning. Oh and panting. I found it amusing that we could get off that way, with very little visuals and just a lot of. . .well, panting. Anyway, cyber sex, was a bit more detailed and nothing short of reading some smutty novel where the hero was the hunky Lord of the Sheets.

It was more about mental imagines and exciting yourself which, in turn, excited your partner. And damnit, I was turned on like no body's business and had such an urge to get home and do the things we'd talked about. Of course now, after changing flights three times all I want is a nice, comfy bed with a nice, warm Harm laying next to me.

The ride in the elevator seems longer, maybe it was just my tired mind conjuring up images that would make a two star blush. Hey, I can't help it! The man is gorgeous. And mine, ALL mine!

Using my key, I unlock the one hundred and one locks Harm has installed since us becoming involved and step in to hear the shower running. "Mmmm." All ideas of going to sleep seep out of my head as I imagine one Naval Aviator slash Lawyer clothed in nothing but water drops and soap suds. Damn, I must say, the imagery is quite tempting. Quietly, I close the door behind me, lock all of the locks and place my duffle right by the door. I make quick work of my blouse, slipping it on the back of one of the dinning room chairs.

Taking three steps, I walk into the bedroom only to find his bed a total mess. Odd and definitely not a Harm kinda thing. But, that's when I spot it, the laptop on table that's on the side where I normally sleep. Makes sense, we _did_ speak sometime. . .last night? And it _was_ a umm. . .heh, well. . .non-G rate conversation. If the mess of the bed and the box of tissues on the side table say anything, Harm was just as excited as I was.

I pull my pants down to my hips and sit on the bed as I push them down the rest of the way and then work on my socks. Standing, I consider removing my undies when I hear the water stop completely. "Damn." I curse under my breath.

Actually, this could be a good thing. He doesn't know I am here and I would be hard pressed to find a straight male that wouldn't like a half naked woman in his bed. "Ah, what the hell?" I remove the last two scraps of clothing and slide onto the bed. Forget this half naked woman crap, commando is the word.

I lay on my side, propping my head up with my hand and wait for Harm to step in. Something hard is under me and it's not the laptop, which is still on the table. Whatever the hell is under me is poking my right hip, around the bone area. "What in the hell?" My decision to reach behind and grab the offending object falls short when I see a half naked Commander stepping into my sight.

Harm's wrapped up in a big, fluffy, burgundy towel that I gave him in hopes to put a little Marine into the place. He doesn't see me at first, scrubbing his hair dry with a smaller navy blue towel is obscuring his vision and then that towel sudden falls to the floor, I then realize he's finally noticed me. "Nice dogtags." He recovers nicely adding a flirty, mischievous grin.

"Surprised?" I ask coyly.

His eyes drink me up from head to dogtags to toes. "Pleasantly so."

While Harm is standing there in his red towel, blue one on the floor, ogling me is starting to make me a little restless. "So, you going to come say 'hello?'"

"Uh huh, just admiring the view for a moment. I'm a man, I need the visuals." Yup and there goes that cocky, self assured, egomaniacal flyboy. I swear, that ego is so handed over with the wings. Slowly, he stalks his way over to me. And yes, he's stalking, trust me! It's this whole predatorily, jungle cat type of movement that is, oh, so sexy.

He lays next to me and I lick my lips in anticipation. "I missed you." He draws out in this husky, bedroom voice that probably just melted a polar icecap somewhere. Then our lips meet in a slow, deep, passionate kiss that takes the breath away from me.

"Woah, sailor." I say a little drunkenly as my arms wrap around him. Harm pins me down on the mattress and as he moves above me the only thing I feel is pain. "Oww!" I cry out, feeling the aforementioned object that was poking me decided, at this particular moment, to stab me.

"I'm sorry!" Harm, true to form, is off of me in a heartbeat. The poor guy is even sitting up. "Mac, I didn't hurt you did I?" He's eyeing me suspiciously, looking for possible sings of my discomfort.

Reaching under me, I pull out the offending object and stare at it with mild amusement. No. No way in hell. Holding up the item, I give Harm a questioning glare which he is just not meeting. "What is this doing here?"

"What? Oh, that." He looks over the item and then takes it from me only to shove it into the night table on his side of the bed. "It's nothing." I really can't believe that's all he's going to say about. . .THAT. It may not be the oddest thing I've ever seen but, it sure as hell is the oddest thing I've ever seen in _Harm's_ apartment.

Reaching for the covers, I drape them over me and then sit up, using the wall as a support. "That's not 'nothing', Rabb." The use of his last name makes him cringe. Good! I want answers!

Nervously, Harm shifts on the bed, sliding himself, effectively to the other side. "Maaaaac, don't make it into something it isn't, okay."

I fold my arms over my chest and continue to glare. "Well, how did it get here?"

"I bought it."

HE BOUGHT IT! You know, for a moment, I was going to say that it belonged to me, but, I have all of my items cataloged in my head. I know I've never brought _that_ here. "You actually walked into a shop and bought it?"

"Yup."

"That's. Just. Weird." I punctuate, my head still trying to wrap around the notion of Harm. . .no, it's just weird.

Harm's trying to shrug it off as something normal. "Nothing weird about it, Mac. . .People do it every day."

Oh, yes, I am sure macho jet jocks like Harm are at the Romance section of the local bookstore everyday. "Harm, Harlequin?" And it isn't _just_ romance either. I mean, Harlequin is famous for their racier selection which is exactly what he got.

"I was researching for you, okay! There, happy?" Woah, he's angry now. How did that happen? Harm's turned away, sitting at the edge of the bed toying with his Naval Academy ring as I try to grasp his reasoning.

"For me?"

Harm reaches inside of the drawer and takes the book back out. "Yeah, I mean, the first couple of times we did that cyber thing. . .or tried." He adds with a grunt, "It was, fun. . .but, you know." Trailing off, he turns and brakes out that award winning (okay, fine! So it hasn't won any awards, but it should!) grin. Harm's hand finds my leg under the covers and his fingers start to delicately move over my skin. Damn him! This is so a stall tactic. Damn me for letting it affect me the way it does. I need to face it, my body betrays me every time he's around. Hah! As if I mind.

I clear my throat in hopes of getting some semblance of control back and then slide my hand under the covers to remove his hand from my thigh. "It was fun but?"

He sighs again, knowing he's been had. "Look, I just wanted to 'spice it up.'" The last part is said with quotation fingers followed by a heavy shrug. "Before you say anything, You gotta admit: it worked." That shit eating grin is on his face now and, I can't argue with him there, it certainly _did_ work. "By the way, how do _you_ know what Harlequin is?" He stares at me guilty and that damned grin isn't going away. "Has my little Marine grown tired of Tom Clancy and Nelson Demill?" He questions in the same tone of voice one would use to speak to a little child. "Hmmm, I'll bet you've always read these." He says, waving the book in front of my face.

Annoyed, I reach for and then smack him gently over the head with said book. "In case you haven't noticed, I am a woman, Harm."

"Oh, baby, don't I know it." Seductively, his fingers start to trace my clavicle.

I am not saying that every woman has read Harlequin, but, "I'm a very passionate woman at that."

"No argument here." His mouth replaces his fingers and I feel his tongue slip out over the pulse point at my neck.

"And although the books are not the best example of Prose or literary epical genius. Some of the historical romance novels are excellent." I say in my best matter of fact tone.

Harm is staring at me as if I've grown two heads. "Historical Romance?" By that face he's making – scrunched up nose and one eye brow quirking it's way upward, a cringe is coming on. "Like, medieval times and stuff?"

"Medieval times, Renaissance. They are very descriptive about the time, the place. Although, I've read that they are never really historical adequate enough." I shrug. As if a person buying Harlequin is actually looking for accuracy? I never understood all of the complaining, if you buy that stuff it's for one reason only, the smut.

I can tell Harm's still trying to wrap his head around the specifics, but then accepts defeat. "This one is about a CIA pilot who saves a female Marine who's running away from a rogue CIA agent."

The expectant look on his face is simply adorable and I don't ignore the tidbit about the storyline either. "Ah, so it's about us?"

"No, but, in my mind it was. Except that David, the pilot, a dark skinned, Cuban-American and Cathy, the Marine, is blond haired with blue eyes."

I cringe at the thought, mentally picturing myself with blond hair. Eww. Anyway, "So, did you find anything _interesting_ to write about?"

Harm moves closer to me and one of his hands starts to gently tug away the covers off of my body. "Nope, but it did give me an idea of the kinda stuff you girls like to read and hear."

Chuckling, I lean into his kiss. If men really knew the half of it, they would run away, blushing. To believe that they are more dirty minded than women, please! I can give the man a run for his money. "And what kinda stuff do you think I would like?" I say breathlessly onto his shoulder as I kiss across towards the crease of his neck.

Harm clears his throat and lets out a deep, relaxed breath. Damn, I love coming home to him, it's the single best event of all of my days. "Well. . .Let's see – Harm's strong, muscular arms wrap sensuously around Sarah's waist. With a tug, their bodies are close together, touching in all of the right. .plmmmm." I feel the ripple from his chuckle as my lips take his own stopping any of the other ideas the book has given him.

Breaking the kiss, I look into his eyes and grin. "One thing about books, flyboy, it's just pretend. I much rather have the real thing."

"I would agree with you there, Marine." He kisses me again, grinning devilishly as he backs off slightly and looks me over again. "Wearing dogtags only. . .Mmm. Would be a good name for a Romance novel, dontcha think? 'Dogtags Only'?"

My ability to think of a witty rebuttal goes out the window when, said dog tags join his wet, blue towel, on the floor.


	45. I Was Just Looking For A Pen

**Thanks for the reviews gang! I forgot I've had this part written for like 3 months. LOL! I suck. :P**

**Enjoy!**

**Jackie**

**PART 45 - I Was Just Looking For A Pen**

Today is one of those tedious, never gonna end, look up at the clock and it's only budged 30 seconds even though it feels like you've been sitting there for three hours, kinda day. Sigh.

The General, I swear, is trying to kill us. Well, alright, so it's the SECNAV who told the General to kill us! The man's nephew decided to steal a Humvee and run rampant through a base, nearly killing two officers, all to impress a girl.

I'm stuck defending the moron and Mac's having a jolly old time prosecuting. Needless to say, we're arguing, which isn't a bad thing, mind you. Passionate arguing leads to passionate sex and, let's face it, have you taken a good look at Mac? I'll take all of the sex I can get and just a little extra if I could squeeze it in. Good God, the woman has turned me into a hormone driven teenager. Alright, fine, so it didn't take much.

Heaving another sigh, I start to write my notes using a legal pad. The computers are being non-cooperative since the computer, techie guy decided to 'change our system.' Right now, the only thing we can do is send internal e-mail. We can't even print! If you ask me, not all change is great.

We're still in 'hiding' as Mac and I are choosing to call it. No one really knows much about the engagement. Sarah's hiding the ring behind her corps ring and I am waiting for Harriet to run crazily down the halls once she spots it. From time to time, when I find her and Mac deep in conversation, I can't help but break out in a cold sweat. I know it's dumb and that everyone should know and that I should shout it from the top of the building but, frankly – I don't want to. This is still new to us. We are still finding ourselves and I would like for that discovery to continue without so many people on the sidelines. Lord knows the moment people know about the engagement, they'll be pressuring us to marry right away and that's not something I want either. It's my first wedding and, technically, it's Mac's too. Alright, so it's not the first time she walks down the aisle, but from what I've heard about her wedding with Ragle, it may as well be. It needs to be done right.

Men lie when we say we don't think about weddings and such. Ever since she said 'yes', I keep picturing her in a gorgeous white gown, walking down the aisle and giving me that smile of hers that is reserved just for ME. Course, that dream fades away to our honeymoon, which, I hope, will be some place warm, tropical and sunny. . .Screw that, I hope it rains all day so I can keep her in my bed as long as possible. Yea, I got it bad. But, kissing Sarah MacKenzie just. . .addicting.

As my mind gets carried away, I find myself not concentrating on work and not noticing that the pen has run out of ink. "Shit." Great, I've scribbled away about a whole page of. . .nothing. Opening up my drawer, I check around inside to find it empty. I would check my briefcase, but I stupidly left that at home with another set of notes I spent all night working on. Sighing, I stand up, walk around my desk and head out of my door. I walk towards the conference room and another supply closet which holds only office supplies.

Stepping inside, I start to glance around. "Pencils, markers, paperclips. . .where the hell are the pens?" It's when I step in further that I smell it. . .A stench that would wake the dead. "Jesus Christ, what died in here?" I try to ignore it as I step onto this little ladder and reach for the box of pens. "C'mere!" I yell at the box, which ends up flying OFF the shelf and straight down onto. . .

"OWW!"

The box, and I mean a WHOLE box, has just fallen on Mac's head. From my perch, I watch her stumble slightly and crash into the bottom shelves.

"Oh no." I hurry down, trying to see if any damage has been done. In the process, I manage to step on a pen wrong and the last thing I remember was my legs coming out from under me. "Ugh!" Then it's lights out.

I start to come to only to feel a presence over me, definitely female, by the smell of perfume and a gentle touch. "Harm? You alright?" Definitely Mac.

"Shhhhhh! Stop yelling!" I groan out, my head feeling like someone took a baseball bat to its skull.

Mac chuckles. "I'm not yelling. . .Can you sit up for me?" I feel her hands wrapped around my arms tugging me upwards and I comply with a great deal of cursing. She leans me back against the shelving and it's then that I pop open an eye. The room is illuminated by a tiny overhead light and when she turns slightly to get. . .something. . .I see the shiner.

"Oooh, jeez, Mac." It's all flooding back to me. . .the pens, the box falling, me. . .slipping? Wait. . .Why isn't it a little brighter in here? My eyes adjust quickly, noticing that the door. . . "Noooooo." I say, glancing between the door and Mac who's now taken up residence next to me. "What are the odds?"

"Not sure, Harm, but really, stay the hell away from me when we are around supply closets." She takes an imaginary piece of lint off of her skirt and sighs.

Woah, woah, woah, as far as I'm concerned. "I was here first!" I yell, then immediately cringe as my head feels like it's going to explode. "Ugh, why me?"

"I feel I must say it. . .Aleutians, here we come." It's clear that if we're caught, Cresswell probably won't be as forgiving. I mean, how many times can we possibly. . .

The door is thrown open and to our horror, the one person we'd hoped would not show up is standing there, in all his Marine glory, glancing down at us with, what I have to describe as contempt. Mac and I crawl to attention. His arms instantly fold across his chest in one of those commanding officer, better than thou posture that sometimes makes me sweat. "Commander, Colonel. . .Is there a closet at JAG you two haven't christened?"

Christened? It's not like we've actually. . .Well, we tried once but. . . Mac's mouth opens and closes but no words come out. Apparently she's too shell shocked to breathe a word. "We didn't do this on purpose." She finally says, then nudges me to continue.

I nod in agreement. "Sir, I swear, I was just looking for a pen." Yes, I realize how 'the dog ate my homework', lame, it sounded. But it's the truth! What was that about the truth setting you free?

Cresswell postures just a little bit longer then notices a few key elements. "Colonel, why do you have a black eye? And Commander, why is your forehead bleeding?"

"Well you see. . .I came in here to find a pen and then I used the step ladder to grab a box and in the process it fell and clobbered the Colonel. When I went down to help her, not seeing one of the pens on the floor I slipped on it and. . .and. . .well, I don't remember the rest." I ramble off and then Mac picks up.

"He slipped on the pen and ended up clocking himself against the edge of one of the shelves and then he was knocked out for two minutes and three seconds. . .In the process of falling and me trying to help him, the door closed on us and. . .it looks like this one closes from the outside as well. . .ah, sir." I have to commend Mac for going through all of that with such Marine precision.

The story, though seeming like a skit off of the Three Stooges does seem to appeal to Cresswell who sighs deeply. "Look, your closet shenanigans are really starting to get. . .irritating. . .The next time I find the two of you in a closet, at ops, together. . .I might just make good on that Aleutians promise." He still keeps us at attention as he closes in. "Now, find someone to drive the two of you to Bethesda, it would be nice to check those injuries out."

"Yes, sir." Mac and I reply in perfect unison, waiting for him to leave before we break attention.

As he turns on his heel, the General doesn't see two pens that had managed to slip out of the door and lay right at his path. The next thing we know, _his_ legs come out from under him as his six hits the floor. Mac and I snap out of attention and quickly try to help. "You alright, sir?" Mac asks, trying to help him sit up.

Cresswell just looks between me and her and breaks out in laughter. "Rabb, next time, order someone to get the pen for you. . .These closet adventures are turning out to be more dangerous than they are worth."

Mac and I can't help but chuckle at our closet misfortunes. "I guess you'll be riding shot gun when you join us on the way to Bethesda?"

"Hello no!" Cresswell yells. "You two are not staying in the back seat alone. . .MacKenzie, you ride shot gun, Rabb, you're in the back with me. . .It's obvious you two need a baby sitter."

At some other point in time, I might have disagreed, but this time. "Aye, aye, sir." It sounds like a good idea.


	46. As Drunk As A Skunk

Uh huh! A bit more for you guys! These are a bit more difficult to write,  
haven't had much to inspire me! Hope you enjoy this one!

Jackie

PART 46 - As Drunk As A Skunk

"Jeeez, Flyboy, next time you rib me about what eating Beltway Burgers is doing to my weight, I'm going to rib on you and what those damned veggies is doing to _your_s!" I grunt out, walking a step at a time – actually, slower than that, it's more like shuffling – up the steps to my building with a _very_ inebriated Harmon Rabb Junior clinging to my shoulder. "C'mon, Harm! Work with me here!" I reach to grab his leg and lift it to the first step.

My painstaking attempt to get him up the stairs and, eventually, into my apartment is not going unnoticed by Harm, who is just laughing his head right off. "S-s-s-sorry. . Ma-ac." He hiccups and then starts laughing all over again. "Trying to do the best I can." Somehow, I doubt that.

"Shhh! You're going to wake the neighbors."

This just makes him laugh even harder. "Shhhh! I'll tell them where. . .where they can s-shove it! No-ones gonna tell meeee, that I can't see my girl**fend**!" He slurs.

Girlfend? Oh boy! "I'm not your girl_fend_ anymore, remember?" Hey, if I'm wearing the rock, I sure as hell am not _just_ the girlfend. . .erm, girl_friend_.

At this, he stops any progression whatsoever making me trip on the first step and, miraculously, wind up on my six instead of on my head. When I look up to Harm he's giving me such an odd and comical look. A cross between shock and pouting. "Did we break up?" For a moment, I swear, he sobered up. "Cause, you told me I could drank!"

Oh, why me? "I'm your _fiancé_, not your girlfriend. . .And when us girls let you _boys_ have a little drinking contest, none of us thought you guys were going to get _plastered."_

Any attempt of seriousness or soberness washes right out of Harm as he starts laughing again. "Plaster is what you put on your walls!"

Lord help me! This is going to be a long night.

This all began when Cresswell suggested we celebrate the win of a very big, very important case for the Navy. One of those – you gotta prosecute though you really don't want to win – cases. Harm and I were assigned as the prosecution (I'm thinking Cresswell is testing our abilities to work together and still be a couple. I'm hoping that's some sort of good sign at his faith in us.) while Sturgis and Bud were working on the defense. We used every possible _legal_ tactic to win our case, making sure that no one could argue that neither of us did our job. Hell, we even called Cresswell to the stand as a character witness – he wasn't too thrilled about that move. Still, we lost it fair and square and, as a result, a few changes will likely be made to the UCMJ.

So, the four of us, along with the General Cresswell and Mrs. Cresswell, Harriet, Coates, Vic and Barbie (Yes, they are still dating! Ewww! I kinda feel sorry for him. . .not.) all headed to McMurphy's. We literally turned the place upside down – a fight broke out, the cops were called in and even some people got arrested.

Harm had never been shy drinking around me until the moment we became involved. After having a long conversation, he was worried that any alcohol on his breath would, somehow, make me fall off the wagon when we kissed. His concern was sweet and, I gotta say, it really made me feel all nice and warm inside. I mean, how cute is it that?

One of the things I learned by being with Harm is to let things happen. So I have, or at least, I've been trying to lose some control of things. In turn, so has he. However, this is the man that I love and hope to spend my life with. It's my duty to be concerned that the menfolk decided to play darts _while_ drinking. It's been a longstanding, unwritten rule that mixing liquor and sharp objects is not a very good idea. And tonight we got reminded why. . .

I put my foot down, as did Harriet, when Bud and Harm tried to play. Six tequila shots and three games in, Sturgis was lining his shot up, tongue sticking out of his mouth and to the side, one hand wrapped around a cold brew. (Yes, the image is as funny as it sounds.) The General takes this particular moment to walk across the bar to his wife, straight through the line of Turner's fire. The dart wound up sticking Cresswell on his six. Apparently, it was quite painful and for a tough Marine, the General was crying like a baby. I gotta say though, it was a better shot than Vic's which landed INSIDE the jukebox.

The fighting and it's subsequent arrests began when Cresswell started running around like a dog chasing its own tail, trying to prevent Mrs. Cresswell from touching his injured six. In the process, he wound up banging into a rather large, rather surly looking biker who just had a friend too many with him. The next thing I know fists are flying and all of us – save for Barbie who was hiding under the table – got involved.

When the cops showed up, the bikers wound up getting arrested, as no one could believe that a group of military officers would wind up in a pub brawl. Our night was over.

After saying our goodbyes, I attempted to _shove_, yes, _shove, _Harm's six foot four frame into his Corvette, a feat that boggles the mind. How the hell does the man get into that car? Does he fold in? Thank God I can drive stick, though that really didn't help when your fiancé is busy trying to feel up your thigh. I kept slapping his hand away, chuckling slightly. And okay, fine, I may have let him cop a feel or two. Maybe it was three.

Driving to my place was just fun. When he wasn't touching me, Harm spent most of the trip with his head out of the window yelling at people on the street. He actually asked a car next to us if they had Grey Poupon, told a couple to 'get a room' when they were kissing at the bus stand. My favorite thing though, was all of the airplane noises when I took sharp turns, those were cute.

Finally making it into the building, we step into the elevator and Harm just starts hitting ALL of the buttons. "Harm, don't! The last thing we need is to get stuck. . ." Oh no. . .no no no no no! "SHIT!" I yell out, when I feel the elevator jerk roughly then stop altogether.

"Oooops." He says, turning to me with a silly grin before covering his mouth and laughing unabashed. "Do you think we're stuck?"

Really, again, I have to ask, "Why me?"

"Why you? Well that's easy, Mac!" He says, then leans against the back wall, eye brows lifting up and down suggestively. "You're sexy. . .that's. . .one." He slurs, then wavers slightly seemingly forgetting whatever else he was going to say. "Twoooo." He says, showing me three fingers, "You're like. . . a girl. . .guys like girls. . ." Stopping for a moment, he seems to consider this and then smiles sloppily. "Well, _most_ guys like girls. . .Like me - I like you. . .I like you because, weeeeell, I'm a guy!"

I can't help but laugh, he looks like a maniac. His hair is a mess, his uniform is un tucked and out of place and he has this glassy eyed look. Yup, definitely a maniac. A cute maniac, but a maniac non-the-less. "Glad you like me, Harm. . .Else this marriage thing wouldn't quite work."

"Twooo. . ." He stops for a moment, almost as if he forgot something, then shrugs it off. "Two. . .You have no idea how. . ." Hiccup. "Much." Hiccup." "You turn me on."

"I can _guarantee_ you that I know how much I turn you on." I say smugly, "However, we need to get out of this elevator and get you to bed." I then push by him to get to the emergency phone. Pulling it to my ear, I wait for the operator to respond. As I begin to relay the information, I feel Harm's breath on my neck, an arm wrapping around my waist. "Yes, we're safe . .Thank you." I turn to face Harm only to find him with this hazy, comical, love struck glance. "They said thirty minutes, can you hang on for that long?"

Harm nods, but it looks more like he's just bopping his head. "Hmmm. .. not enough time, but it will do."

"Not enough time for what exactly?"

Instead of a verbal answer, he leans forward, eyes closed, mouth doing a kissy face. Actually, his kissy face looks more like a fish out of water, trying to gasp for air.

I can't help bust out laughing. "Harm, cool your jets. . .While I'm finding this whole drunk you kinda amusing, I'm not about to sleep with you while you're as drunk as a skunk."

"Oh. . .yeah. . .right." He reaches into his pocket, pulling out a black, leather wallet which he fumbles with before it opens. "Three." Oh, jeez. Well, at least he's got the number right! "You look. . .good. . .You smell good too. . .but you look good." He rifles through the plastic thingies in the middle of the wallet where you can put pictures and credit cards and such. "WE look good." Harm slurs as he pulls out a picture of us taken almost a lifetime ago during a NATO ball. "Sexy, but good."

"Mmm Hmmm, we do look _good._" Hey, I figure if I can't beat him, join him. It might be a long wait.

He then continues to pull out pictures of our friends, the Roberts' kids, and then reaches a picture that catches my attention almost completely. Actually, it was more like being blindsided by a Tomcat. "This is my fav-o-rite picture of you."

Out of it's own accord, my eyebrow shoots up in annoyance. That little, filthy, green monster rears it's ugly head. And, to be honest, I don't know why. I mean, he's marrying me. He wants to be with me. There is no one else. Still, Kate Pike! Why the _hell_ does he have a picture of KATE PIKE in his wallet. And it's not just a friendly picture, of the two of them together taken. . . you know? I couldn't stomach that either. But this picture _really_ takes the cake. Kate Pike, in a bathing suit! I'm taking deep breaths, counting to ten, while he describes what he likes about me/Kate in the picture. Really, I am trying not to kill him.

"And your lips. . .I mean, wow. . .You're just. . ." Suddenly, he stops the description and is pouting again and picking at his tie, I assume trying to get some imaginary lint off of it. "Mac." Harm says softly.

"Yeah?"

"I'm not feeling too well." By the sound of his voice, I am agreeing with his assessment. "The elevator is spinning."

Oh shit, last thing I want or need is for the man to spew in our little space. "Uh, it's alright, Harm. . .Just pick a spot and watch it intently. . .Here, lay on my lap." I pull him towards me, resting his head in my lap as I stroke my fingers through his hair. "Just breathe, Harm. . .Breathe in, count to ten. . .breathe out. . .keep doing that."

"Three. Four. Fi. . ." He barely gets 'five' out before he's out cold. I sigh deeply and wait for rescue while the object of my affections is out cold.

It took the team a good thirty minutes to find us (They were searching in the wrong building.) and one particularly cute, but very young, firefighter named Mark, helped me carry Harm into my apartment. Not bothering with sticking him under the shower, which he needed to get the cigar and stale beer scent off of him, I take off as much as his clothes as I can, leaving Harm comfortable enough to sleep. I push him to lay on his stomach, then place the sheets over him. Brushing some of his hair to the side, I place a kiss on Harm's cheek, then venture to my bed for the night – the sofa.

It doesn't take a genius to figure that I will be mulling over the Kate Pike picture all night. There was one moment of victory though when I stopped myself from going through his wallet. I believe that to be one of the more ultimate forms of privacy violation and just won't do it. But, damn, am I tempted. It's going to be a long night. . .

- - - - - -

"Uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuugh, someone shoot me, please. . ." Groggily, I pop an eye open at the very odd sound coming from my bedroom. "Just make it stop!" It's eight in the morning and my fiancé is up, no doubt, with one hell of a hang over.

I toss my blanket off of me and head towards the bedroom to find Harm hanging half off of the bed, with Assassin giving him a sad look. "Hang over?" I state, only to have Harm whip around to face me.

"Shhh! Keep it down!"

Yup, hangover. "I wasn't yelling." I whisper, then sit at the edge of the bed, the movement making Harm turn, literally green. "Harm?"

"Oh shit." He places his hands over his mouth and then hauls it into my bathroom. He returns ten minutes later, showered and with a toothbrush sticking out of his mouth. "I. Feelikeshit." He says as best as possible, leaning his body against the frame of the bathroom door.

"Well, if you're willing, I have a patented MacKenzie Hangover Remedy." Really, I do, though the taste of that stuff is worse than the hangover. I don't tell Harm this, of course. The concoction contains an assortment of things that, by themselves, are nice to digest, together, they will gross out just about anyone. I get a sick feeling in my stomach as put the drink together for Harm. A drink that contains things like tomato juice, raw eggs, honey, vinegar and a few other spices. Finally, I slip two pieces of bread in the toaster and let them burn a bit before smothering them with honey. Hey, it may sound crazy, but it had worked for me in the past.

Harm gives me this cute puppy dog look and makes a face as I place the remedy before him. "You know, normally I just have some Alka-Seltzer or aspirin with water."

"Alka-Seltzer has aspirin in it and aspirin can mess up your liver. After drinking too much it's the worst thing you could put your body through." Or so I was told once. Back in the day, a sure remedy was the types of waters that baby's drink to help prevent dehydration and a bit more of whatever it was that you'd been drinking. I was not about to give Harm more alcohol. With great distaste, he chugs down the drink, cringing once the wicked aftertaste hits him. "The cure is worse than the ailment."

He nods his agreement and then starts on the toast. "How bad was I?"

I shrug. "Not too bad. You were actually rather funny. Especially when you were yelling at people on the street as we drove home." He has the grace to look amused. "I could've done without you puling out a picture of Kate Pike and comparing her to me though." Ah, that did it. Blew him out of the water, so to speak.

"Ka-kate? Pike? Kate Pike?" Harm looks truly mortified. "Ummm, how? Where?"

Trying not to let my jealousy affect me was damned near impossible. "Your wallet. . .You were. ..umm. .. hitting on me and pulling out pictures of me and of us and. . .then you get to her picture thinking it was me."

"Oh, there's no comparison." He throws out casually, as if it made a difference. It would have, really, if it wasn't that I am so damned. . .confused when it comes to Harm.

"What does that suppose to mean?" I ask, rather defensively.

Harm takes it at face value and for all of my hiding, I realize that he _knows_ I am jealous. "You're jealous." Yup! He definitely figured it out! Damned Squids! "And you do not have a thing to be jealous about." Oh, no, just that she basically told me about their wild weekend together. I shudder to think about what else she would have told me if I'd poked around a bit. "Kate was a. . .friend. . ." Uh huh, that's where it ends.

"She wasn't just a _friend, _Harm. . .You slept with her. Kate told me so."

Apparently, he didn't know that I knew. At least, that is what I can figure by his pale face. "She told you?" The paleness changes to red with embarrassment and I am sure he's wishing that the whole line of questioning would be stricken from the record. "Tha-that was a long time ago. . .And it only happened once. . .I mean, Kate is fun and all but she has a habit of being a bit too. . ."

"Brazen?" I offer.

"Well, yes, no! She's a good friend." He finishes, then reaches over and takes my hand. "Mac, you don't have a thing to worry about when it comes to Kate. . .She's part of the past and that's where she's staying."

There is a soft sincerity to his voice. "I trust you. . .But, it was a bit weird to find you comparing me to her."

"It was definitely the booze talking. . .To start off, you have nicer umm. . .ummm." His hands are rounding over his chest almost creating an imaginary balloon.

"Breasts?" I finish for him, quirking up an eyebrow in amusement which only makes him blush.

"Yeah, those." He nods enthusiastically, then pulls me a little closer. "Besides the fact that you're ten times more beautiful than Kate, there's this thing about the way you kiss."

The way I kiss? Okay, he has me intrigued. "What about the way I kiss?"

"It's addictive, Mac. . .And Kate, was definitely _not_ addictive. . .But, you are." He leans in to kiss me and then pulls away quickly, leaving this sexy tension between us. "Umm, Mac? We might want to leave the kissing stuff until later." He places a hand over his mouth and backs away from me. "I smell like a brewery." Which is quite amusing considering he's showered and cleaned.

"Ah, don't worry, Squid, I got a pack of breath mints." I pull him close to me and place a chaste kiss on his lips.

As Harm leans towards me again, he stops just short of my lips and grins. "Sooo. . .what's in your wallet?"


	47. Bad Endings

**Okay, this part is very pointless, but I've had this thought of them having a bad experience together and it just wasn't more than half a page long so I added it in. Soon the rest of the crew will find out tha tthey are engaged and we'll start the wedding plans. LOL!**

**Enjoy!**

**Jackie**

**PART 47 – Bad Endings**

Mac's lying in my bed propped up against a pillow which is resting against the wall. She's biting her lower lip as, no doubt, she's coming to the end of the novel she's been reading. Grinning, I lean up against the wall, watching her intently as a myriad of emotions plays on her facial features. Then to my surprise, I see her toss the book which lands a foot away from me. "Bad ending?"

She makes a face and nods. "The girl died." She says, disappointed. "The whole damned time I am reading about this great love and he gave up everything for her and then. . she dies?" Sitting up, she dives under the bed and retrieves another book. "Thank God for mindless smut."

Smut? "Wha-what?"

Enthusiastically, Mac waves the book in the air and grins at me sexily. "Smut! It's tawdry, racy and almost completely mindless. Best of all it always has a happy ending."

Okay, I could appreciate all of that, sometimes we totally need a happy ending, however, "And you find that in a trashy romance novel?"

She nods. "Oh yes and it's not trashy, Commander Romantic."

"Mmm-hmm." I step into the room and hand her a cup of coffee, placing my own cup on the night table. "Those romance novels are nothing but written porn." I take a look at the book, it's cover boasting an overly muscular, bare-chested man kissing the neck of a beautiful brunette. Amused, I glance over at Mac who's watching me intently. "You envision you and I, don't you?"

Annoyed, she yanks the book from me and clutches it to her chest. "So what if I do?"

I raise my hands in surrender. "Hey, not saying it's bad. . .It's just that the real thing is better." I lay next to her and snatch the book back, studying the back cover. The book is something about Private Investigator, Max Reedling who falls in love with a woman, Susan Belkin, who has a sketchy past and now has the Mafia after her. _"Their love will be the only thing that will keep them safe."_ I snort and roll my eyes. The things that women will read is beyond me. "You're kidding me right?"

"Hey, you're not the one reading it!" Mac tries to get the book away from me, but I don't give it back. Instead, I prop up my head up on her thigh, leaf through the foreword and start reading. _"There was nothing charming or romantic in what Private Investigator Maxwell Reedling was doing. The people he was watching, on the other hand, definitely had the romance thing down pact."_ Turning to Mac, she's glancing at me with a funny expression. "Not the best literary work."

"It's his first book."

"_His?_" A man wrote this!

Mac nods. "Yes, _his_. Leslie is also a mans name, you know. . .Here, let me get you the good stuff." She takes the book, pages through a few chapters and ends up in a section which the pages are bent and obviously, well read. I clear my throat and start reading out loud again. "_His strong arms raised Susan up and she immediately wrapped her legs around his waist. 'Take me, take me now.' She said in a throaty voice just before he kissed her. Max's hands cupped her. . ._" I trail off as I feel a blush creep up my cheeks.

Chuckling, Mac takes the book away and sighs as she settles it on the night table. "Yeah, it can get kinda hot."

"So can we." I sit up and turn to face Mac who's eyes have turned darker. "I mean, we've been known to really burn things up."

"Oh yeah." She pulls me to her, Max and Susan completely forgotten. . .

**Ten Minutes Later. . .**

"That was bad." I sigh.

"The worst."

"Well, maybe not the _worst_ but was pretty bad. . .It _could_ have been much worse."

Mac stares at me timidly. "You kidding me?"

Shrugging, I sit up. "I'm a man, Mac. It's a all good for us, even the bad stuff." Somehow, by the look on her face, I don't think that was very helpful. "Err, I mean."

"I guess that's kinda true. . .and you're right, it's not the worst. . .I've had worse, lots worse. Boring even."

Sex could be boring? Well, okay, I guess if the person you are with isn't all that enthused? Actually? Boring? "Even bad sex isn't boring?"

She snorts loudly. "Uh huh, my first time with Mic was. . .oh." Mac's cheeks go bright red and she brings a hand up to her mouth. Her head lowers down in shame. "I ah. . .I'm sorry. . .That was. . .Oooh, God, that was bad."

Normally I'd be a slight be upset to hear the woman that I am in bed with speaking about another man. However, mentioning that her first time with Mic was boring, really pleases me for some reason. "Hey, it's alright." I can't help but hide a smug grin and Mac picks it up.

"Don't look so happy about it. . .I guess I should have taken that as face value that he and I just didn't mesh well."

Okay, call me crazy, a masochist, but I am mildly curious about their love life. Hey, if the woman is going to marry me, I sure as hell want to keep her pleased. "So, you're sex life with Mic? How was that?"

Chuckling, she shakes her head in astonishment. "Ooh, alright, fine. . .Honestly?"

Honestly? For a brief moment there I wasn't sure I really wanted to know. "Honestly." Oooh boy, brace for impact.

"This little bad escapade with you was one hundred times better than a good day with Mic." I want to say that she's lying in order to boost my ego, but there's something in her eye that I can't deny. "And you know why that is?" I shake my head. "Because we're _in love_ with each other. . .It's not one sided. And I don't have to worry that I have to be someone else around you. You've seen my weaknesses, my strength, my moody side and still you want to be here, without changing me. That's why I'm willing to take all of the good and the bad sex you're willing to share with me, as long as I have you."

I pull Mac to me, holding her naked body flush against my own naked flesh. "I think we should try it again."

"I agree." She mumbles against my shoulder. "What are you doing?" Mac asks as I reach around her to grab the smut book. "Harm?"

Releasing her, I sit up in bed and find the racy chapter. "Oh, just getting a few pointers." I hop out of bed, offering a hand to her. "C'mon, according to Leslie, Max has Susan pinned up against the wall."


	48. A Revealing Softball Game

This story has been hell to write lately. I have some ideas but haven't been able to put it on paper, so to speak. I am trying to get my muse back for this one. So, having said that, I hope you like it.

BTW - It doesn't follow any timeframe. Technically, this part should be during April/June of this year.

Enjoy!

Jackie

**PART 48 – A Revealing Softball Game**

It's the annual, inter-office softball championship. A serious, yet, not-so-serious affair that occurs every spring when the uniform of the day changes and baseball is, once again, on the TV. Since I've been at JAG, I've managed to play in every single game and this year, the stakes are higher!

For two years we've tasted defeat, losing by only a run or two to a lesser team. This year, Cresswell insists on bringing home the trophy and the prize that comes with it – a pizza party and the coveted liberty passes, which will allow the whole staff to skip work the last Friday of this month.

Our team though not the best, has a winning record, losing only one game which has allowed us to enter these finals. Of course, we'd have a perfect record if we still had the Admiral pitching, but, as customary, the skipper of the unit is the pitcher and Cresswell. . .he should stick to boxing. He has this odd method of pitching, which seems to work only half of the time. Then again, it only works because he has a whole team as defense on his side. His pitching style is a cross between a golfers pose and that of someone bowling. From time to time, the pitch is in line and perfect. . .Other times. . .Let's just say that the home plate umpire better watch out. Cresswell managed to knock out two umpires in the first two games when the balls he pitched sailed through the air at an unnatural angle, hit the top fence and came back down whacking the poor men over the head. And, YES, this happened, TWICE.

On the sidelines, Bud manages our team, yelling encouraging words and fighting with the umpires when needed, a sight that is hysterical to see from such a normally calm man. I didn't know he was an avid baseball fan, and was surprised as he shifted us around some.

He began with Harm, taking him out of his usual place at First, to Shortstop. The move scared me for a bit, until I realized that the flyboy is the equivalent to the Great Wall of China. Between his height and those pilot reflexes, not a single ball has gotten past by him. Keeping me at second, Bud hoped that mine and Harm's teamwork would handle the double play situations since our less than stellar pitcher, can't seem to put one over which isn't hit harder than hell.

First base is occupied by the bubblehead, Sturgis and though his fielding isn't grand, he sure makes it up when he gets on base. The man runs way too pretty for softball, with those high kicks that can only come from a track and field star. This actually makes him the fastest man in our inter-office league.

Vukovic's in the outfield, playing Left Center. He's not too bad and, though I will never admit it to him, he has one hell of a cannon for an arm. His batting, well, let's just say we specifically ORDER him to BUNT.

As Catcher we have Mattoni who, I personally believe, is only back there to kiss the General's ass and make him look good. Harriet and Jen are playing Right center and Right field, respectively. I wouldn't ever believe that Harriet's such a kick ass softball player. On our first game she managed to throw out a pretty speedy guy as he tried to make his single into a double. We watched her play in awe only to find out that, in high school and college, she had won numerous trophy's for softball. Harriet the Jock, who'd have thunk it?!

In left we have one of our Marine guards, Seargent Ronnie McCabe, an aspiring baseball star until a bad slide into a catcher during a Marine vs. Navy game destroyed his knee and ended his major league dreams. The moment Ronnie steps up to bat, it doesn't matter where the opposing team positions it's players, the man can hit the ball anywhere he wants. It's like poetry in motion and I am proud that he's a Marine like me!

And finally, on Third, we have Lieutenant jg Ian Sommers, a newbie to the JAG staff who, like Vukovic, can not bat worth a shit, but can, sort of field. Thankfully, not too many balls are hit towards him.

"No bat, no bat!" Ian yells as Kent 'Binx' Nightingale, a US Marine Corps Major who happened to serve with me in Bosnia, steps up to bat.

Harm waves me back slightly, then motions to my right. "Slide just a bit to the left, he'll hit it straight at you Mac." I move away from my spot, positioning myself towards the area that Harm suggests I cover. He's never told me where stand before, and I figure it's a good idea.

Boy was I wrong.

I bend my knees and then lower down the glove between my legs as Cresswell winds up for the pitch. My body moves forward slightly as Binx swings AND misses! "Yes. . .That's one." I yell out, the excitement of the game keeping me on edge. Again, I position myself, my gloved hand hanging between my legs in anticipation for a grounder.

WHACK!

But, the ball doesn't fly in the angle that Harm was so confident about. In fact, it flies the OPPOSITE way to the area that I had previously occupied. "Shit!" I barely have time to react and hurl myself through the air, towards the ball only to come up with nothing but air and about six inches of clay in my shirt. The mixture of sweat and clay in your boobs is just. . .WRONG! I scramble upwards, smacking away Harm's helpful hand. "I'm sorry, Marine."

"Uh huh. . .Just keep your thoughts to yourself." I stare at him pointedly and he gets the message. Great, now we have a guy on first with some speed. Mattoni, though a decent catcher, just doesn't have the arm to throw across the diamond and before we know it, Binx is standing next to me.

He grins in a way that he wouldn't normally do while we're in uniform. "Hey there, Mackie. . .Fancy meeting you here."

"Fancy that." I say back with a sarcastic tone, then turn towards the plate.

Next up is Commander Maria Castanueva, a Cuban-American sailorette with the word 'bimbo' written all over her. She's wearing impossibly tight shorts with a baseball jersey that is tucked in under her sports bra, showing just a bit too much midriff. Sometimes, I wonder, how the hell some of these people wind up in the military. "C'mon General, gimme all ya got!" She shakes her six slightly in a rhythmic way that's catching every man's eye. My cheeks burn a slight red when she points the bat towards MY sailor! "Harmy, it's coming at you."

"Sure it is." Ugh! I could kill that man from time to time! This big, teethy grin comes out of nowhere. Jeez, he really can't help it!! He's a pilot, ego and a sexy grin get handed to them right along with their goldwings. "Give it all you got, Castanueva!" It makes me feel marginally better when he calls her by her last name.

The first pitch is a dud that ends up in the dirt just in front of the plate. Cresswell is definitely not Chegwidden, now _that _man could pitch!

"Oh, I intend to, Harmy, honey!" It's altogether a little too convenient that my sailor knows so many people – women. Not that I don't know my own, but I don't actively flirt with them! Ok, fine, yes, I realize he's oblivious.

Cresswell launches the ball and it's. . .damn, it's a ball, thrown BEHIND bimbo, erm Castanueva. "Hey, Mac. . .Why didn't you ever wear shorts like those when we were in Bosnia?" Binx asks, his eyes admiring my legs just a bit too much for a junior officer.

Chuckling, I tug at my shorts, which are short, but not immodestly so. "It didn't mesh well with the uniform of the day, Binx." I shake my head and tune myself back into the game knowing, full well, that Binx is checking out my six as well.

Swoosh! Another swing and a miss. "Alright Castanueva, attagirl!" I hear Harriet yelling and Jen cheering right along. Damn, we're a fun bunch.

"Aww, give her a break!" Binx yells back at the girls as he returns to the base after the lead he'd taken. "Mac, next time I'll hit it right at you. . .So I can see you move." He's joking, I know he is and the reason is because Harm's an earshot away. Lately I find that most men in the service who know about Harm and I love to rile him up. Especially any Marine that I've served with. I can't count the amount of times he's gotten the manly, 'Don't hurt her' speech.

Harm clears his throat, loud enough for the Pope to hear from the Vatican and then, moves slowly out of position and towards second base. "Hey, Nightingale, you may want to respect the Colonel."

God, the man is just so CUTE when he's jealous. "Harm, it's okay. . .I can handle Binxy."

Binx takes another lead, effectively bringing him closer to Harm. "Yea, Harm, she can handle herself. . .and did this one time in Bosnia. . .She arm wrestled me almost to death. . .Course, just to have that hand of hers wrapped around. . ."

WHACK! This time, Castanueva, who normally gets on base by just flirting with the men, connects and the ball sails towards short stop. Harm, who is busy playing the jealousy card can't get to the ball in time. Those pilot reflexes fall short and so does he. I hear him hit the clay with an 'oof' then turn in time to see Vic fielding the ball and hurling it towards Home. "Damnit! Damnit! Damnit!"

The ball is late and Castanueva now has a double and an RBI. This also means she's sharing Second base with me. "Hey Mac." She smiles, takes some imaginary dust off of her shorts and then begins a series of stretches that makes her look like a horny peacock.

"Hey, Maria. . .Got lucky, huh?" I turn to speak to her, as the next batter calls 'time out' but, she has other ideas. Instead, she saunters over to Harm and beings to remove the clay from. . .HIS PANTS?!

"Harmy, you're all dirty, doesn't that Marine of yours keep you clean?" Oh, I know what she's doing and. . .it's WORKING!!! I want to kill her. . .now. . .quickly. . .TODAY. UGH! She then places a hand on his chest.

Harm's looking over at me, with a silly expression, he looks. . .scared? Cute. "I ah. . .hehe." He removes Maria's hands from his chest and then takes a few steps backwards. "My Marine keeps me just fine."

I raise a brow at that comment which, has got to be one of the oddest things I've ever heard him say.

"Cos, you know, if she doesn't. . ." She's launching herself towards him again and. . .that's it. .. this is where it ends! Every time the woman steps into JAG for SOMETHING, she has to flirt with him. I've been nice, I've been patient, I've been tempted to paste a 'Property of USMC' on Harm's six. But, this is ENOUGH.

I drop my glove into the clay, then grab Maria by the arm. "Look. . .the flirting, may have been funny at first, but now, it's just annoying."

She brings her hands to her hips, striking that 'oh no, you didn't go there' pose. "Whatever, Mac. . . It's not my fault if you can't control your man."

Oh no, she didn't. "_Control_ my man? Why the hell do I need to control him for? It's women like you that need to _control_ themselves!"

Her head bounces around like a pecking chicken as her finger inches, a little too close to my shoulder. "Look there is no sign on him. . .You don't own him." See, I knew sticking 'Property of USMC' sign on Harm WAS a good idea!

"He's my FIANCE!" Any bustle on the field comes to a complete, grinding, halt. My hand comes up to cover my mouth, my eyes scan towards Harm who's turned bright red. Oh shit. Did I really say that out loud? "Did I say that out loud?

Harm nods, Cresswell nods, hell, even Maria nods. And then, the pandemonium begins. "Oh, Honey! Congratulations!" The woman throws herself at me and I would have probably side stepped it and let her fall to the clay if it wasn't because it was such a shock. She grabs Harm, forcing us into some mini-group hug while she sobs, loudly.

When she lets us go, I find the staff. . .the WHOLE staff, even Vukovic, gathered around us with goofy grins on their faces. The person who I worry about the most, Cresswell, is the only one who doesn't seem too happy. "Sir, we were going to tell you. . .I swear, it's just that."

He stands before us, arms across his chest, one hand holding the softball. "Colonel, I know I have a tendency to be a bit gruff." I won't deny that. "But, did you honestly think, after all you know about my family, that I wouldn't understand?"

Thought never crossed my mind more than five times a day. "Actually, sir, the Commander and I just wanted to keep it to ourselves for a while." I turn to Harm and reach out, then pull him to me. "I guess it was time."

Harm grins sexily and nods in agreement. "Yeah, I guess it is time." He leans down and kisses me to the delight of everyone around us. And then, just as quickly, his head snaps up and he gets this terrified look on his face. "Umm. . .mom's gonna have a cow when she realizes that she wasn't the first to know."

Hmm, I guess I know where we're headed next. . . La Jolla.


	49. Last To Know

**Part 49 – Last To Know**

"Harm? Stop it." Popping my eye open, I turn to the side to find Mac with her nose buried in some other romance novel. This one, from what I could decipher with the muscular dude on the front cover grasping a scantily clad woman wearing a flowy dress, is probably a Historical Romance novel. Here we go again. "Harm!" She finally snaps and turns to me with a bit of ire in her voice.

Since take off, I've been trying to get some sleep, however, for the last hour or so, Mac's constantly been reprimanding me for. . . "What did I do?"

Mac sighs deeply, shakes her head and then presses the palm of her hand hard on my knee. "That. . .You've been bouncing your leg up so hard I can feel the vibration over here." She runs her hand over my knee and then pats it. "You need to calm down."

I need many things, calming down sure isn't one of those things. See it's one thing that all of our friends know that we're getting married. It's another thing that my mother will be the last to know. Hell, even Grams found out. That, however, was totally Mac's fault! "I would, if mom weren't the last to know."

She does this cute little upturn thing with her mouth and lowers herd head. "I didn't mean for it to happen, you know? But we were fooling around and. . .I. . .well, it sounded cute."

It did sound cute. After the softball game, we went out for dinner with everyone. And I do mean EVERYONE. Binx, Castanueva, our staff, etc. It was somewhat of a congratulation dinner for us getting hitched. That night Mac went home with me and though nothing happened that evening (we still were taking clay out of various places for us to get too frisky), in the morning, in the shower, things got. . .sudsy. Anyway, the phone rings around eleven and Mac races to grab it as we were expecting the Roberts to call so that we could take the kids to the museum. When she does, through giggles and squeals (I was tickling her), she says it, cutely loud and clear. _"Harmon Rabb is unavailable at the moment he's busy ravishing his fiancé." _

Now, the person on the line wasn't our friends but, my grandmother who's stun silence soon became a barrage of ecstatic yells. She spoke to Mac for almost an hour and me for about five minutes. "I bet Grams is dying to talk to mom, though. . .If they had their way, we'd be married by the end of the day."

Mac chuckles and taps me over the knee with her book. "I doubt that. . .Being her only son, I am sure that Trish wants something memorable."

I feel my stomach knot over as she mentions my mother. "You know, we could just land, rent a car, head to Vegas. . ."

"Elope?!" She raises her brow and then scoffs. "Then your mother would kill the both of us. You for not letting her know we were getting married and me for letting it happen without making you tell her."

Mom? Forget about my mother, "Harriet, Mac. . .Harriet would rake us over the coals."

"Along with Cresswell."

Cresswell. Hah! What the hell happened to that bad ass Marine who we were supposed to battle in order for us to stay together? "Why is I that he seems to be our strongest advocate?"

"Maybe because he feels he owes me. . .He could have destroyed my career in Okinawa."

"I suppose, but it's still convenient."

She nods in agreement and lifts her book back up. "Maybe it's just _our_ turn to have things go right for once? We deserve a little peace."

"Yeah we do." I wrap a hand over hers and lift it up, kissing her knuckles.

4 Hours Later 

Mac and I find ourselves standing next to my mother's new Lexus, a birthday present from Frank. "I take she hasn't let you driven the car yet?" I ask him, chuckling as I notice that she was the one driving. I hug my stepfather as my mother smothers Mac with hugs.

"I drove it out of the dealer." Frank defends and then steps aside as Mom attacks me. "Trish, you're embarrassing him."

She hugs me tightly so much that it's causing a problem for me to breathe. "I'm his mother, it's my right to embarrass him. Especially when he's with a girl." She winks at Mac and they chuckle conspiringly. Must be some sort of a womanly thing, I don't know I am quite sure that women, in general, have some sort of telepathy going on with one another. I ponder that notion for a brief moment before I hear my mother yelling at me. "Harmon!"

"Yes?" I whip around to find her blocking Mac who his holding her suitcase. She exchanges a look with me and since my telepathic skills aren't so in tune, I shrug as my mother scowls. "What?"

"What? What? I didn't raise you in a barn! Get your butt over here and help Mac with her suitcase!" Oh, that. I hurry over and pick up both of our suitcases which I promptly put in the trunk. Mac doesn't say a word though I know she's seething over not being allowed to take care of her own suitcase. She knows damned well that it's best not to argue with mom.

We hop in the car, Mac and I in the back seat, my mother driving while Frank quite contently sits shot gun. "So Harm? Have you gotten out to a carrier much?"

"A few months ago, yeah."

"Missing the F-14 yet?" Frank looks at me with a sad expression. Throughout the years I've gotten to know him better and one thing I shared with him was the love of the Tomcat. Needless to say, I've been distraught since the Navy decided to primarily use the Hornet. I'm about to answer, when Frank suddenly looks like he's seen a ghost. "Oh my God!"

"What?"

"Frank, what is it?" Mac asks only to notice that he's staring at her finger and the engagement ring that she has turned upside down so that no one would notice what it really was.. Frank though, has spotted it and snatches Mac's hand, turning the ring around. "Frank?" She whips around, sees the ring and a second later, there's a bang. A loud bang. . . .

. . .I hear people speaking, Mac's voice, Frank's voice, Mom's too? Opening my eyes I stare up at a starch white ceiling which is a bit fuzzy at the moment. By the odd smell I take that I am in a hospital. But, why would I be? "Harm?" I hear Mac and focus towards the voice. She has a bandage over her right eye and is staring at me with concern. "He's awake." She says to my folks as I try to sit up.

Once I manage that small feat, I note that I am in the emergency room still wearing my clothes. "What happened?"

"Oh darling. . .I'm afraid it was my fault." My mother, flushes with embarrassment and pushes past Frank until she's able to hug me. I her wrist is wrapped but other than that she seems no worse for wear. "I'm afraid that in my surprise. . .well, we seemed to have hit the car in front of us."

I groan loudly and push myself back into the bed. Great, just freaking great. "Mom! You could have killed us." Maybe it's wrong to mind my mother, but, really!

Her embarrassment turns into a bit of ire as she steps back and glares at me with that look that only a mother could dish out. "Well, it's not like I was trying to do it on purpose. Lord knows if I wanted to kill you Harmon, you've given me enough grief." She takes a deep breath and composes herself. "I'm sorry. I'm just a little. . .upset."

Damn. She knows. I don't know how but. . .I glance up at Mac who shakes her head. Okay, so it wasn't Mac who told mom, but, she knows. I know Gram didn't say anything either. Oh God, I'm a dead man. "Upset?" I croak out and give her my best innocent little boy routine. "What are you upset about, mom?"

"When were you planning on telling me?"

"Mom. . .It's just that. . .Mac and I."

"Don't try to blame Sarah. . .I'm the last to know aren't I?"

Oooh Yes. "Well. . .you see the thing is that. . .I. . .we. . .And I. . umm. . ."

She places a hand over my mouth to stop my babbling and then points over at Mac. "Sarah, may I see the ring again?" Mac nods and extends her hand. It's then that mom pushes the ring back a bit and shows me. "Earlier, while the doctors were checking on you, Mac showed me the ring and I saw the tan line under it. Clearly, you've been engaged for a while."

Tan line?! My mother spotted THAT?! "Uh. . .Look, mom. . .We wanted to enjoy it before telling anyone. . .I knew the moment people knew a wedding wouldn't be far away and. . ."

Her annoyance with me, hits the roof. "Did you expect to have the poor girl wait another decade before your married her? Really, Harmon! And I can't believe that. . ."

"NO MOM!" I really don't mean to yell but sometimes, she could be a bit much. "I wasn't planning on waiting forever. . .I want to marry Mac." Sighing, I turn to Mac and take her hand. "I want to marry you. I just needed some time to be a _couple _without everyone, automatically, trying to push us down the aisle. Mac and I have always stood on our own two feet and we wanted this. . .We wanted to wait."

Mac breaks her silence and steps close to me, almost defensively. "It's true, Trish. . .We wanted to wait. . .I want to wait just as much as he did and, to be honest. . .I guess I was just easier not to tell anyone." Up until that moment on the field when Mac let it slip. Not that I am angry, truth be told, had she not said anything, we would have been stuck in limbo. You know, we tend to do that a lot.

Mom takes a breath and stares over at Frank who hasn't said much at all. "Hon, you know you would have tried to get them down the aisle as soon as possible. . .The kids had a right to keep it from you. . .I mean, us." He smiles sheepishly and takes my mother's hand in his. "Now, I think you should apologize to your son for almost getting us killed."

She shoots him daggers and then turns to Mac and I. "I'm sorry dear. . . Have you set a date?"

Ugh, this weekend is going to be murder! I really just hope she doesn't take out the baby pictures again.


	50. Is It Too Late To Elope?

And the wedding plans have begun!! Wooo Hoo!!1 Mistakes are my own, I rarely really beta these much. Spur of the moment kinda thing! And I am pleading with exusing anyhing crazy from me. I electrocuted myself today with Christmas lights. (Not purposely!) Was weird... I'm fine really. ;) 

Anyway!

Enjoy!

Jackie

Part 50 – Is It Too Late To Elope? 

Harm's a great kisser. Scratch that, he's freaking awesome! And those hands of his! The man is sneakier than a Marine recon team on a mission. He's trailing kisses down my neck as his hand finds a little spot on my lower back. He fans his fingers over the area.. Involuntarily, I moan into his mouth and arch my body against him.

Horny teenagers have nothing on us.

I always knew that with Harm things would be hot and passionate but never that it had the ability to burn hotter than a supernova. "You never told me what you wanted, Mac."

This is true and though, it's not quite the answer he was looking for, "You. Just you." I whisper against his lips and then we're kissing again. There's something nagging at the back of my mind, but at the moment, it can't be all that important.

Harm's rich chuckle tells me other wise. "Wrong answer, counselor." Gently he takes my face between his hands and kisses me deeply and then stops. Just like that, he stops. Damn the man. "I need to put some space between us before the wedding planner, Jen and Harriet catch us making out like teenagers."

"Teenagers ain't got nothing on us." I snort and consider that, perhaps, the flyboy has a point. Well, we _were_ making out in his car. I rest my head against the car seat and sigh. "What I want. . .I don't know. . .What do you want?" Considering that Harm is a man, I can tell that the question is going to be answered by some sort of diversionary tactic.

"I want whatever you want, babe." He isn't quite sincere either. When I lie, I mean 'omit the truth', he claims that my lips do an upturn thing. And when Harm lies, he fidgets and guess what the flyboy is doing now?

I place a hand on his knee to stop it from getting me car sick as it shook the car. "Harm, it's _our_ wedding. I don't want to be the only one planning it and I want your input."

"My input? I'm still considering the eloping suggestion I gave you last week." He grins impishly and waggles his eyebrows suggestively. He squeezes the steering wheel and points up the road. "We could leave now, make it a whole cross country adventure?"

Oh brother. The romance is astounding! "Oh really?"

"Yup! We're one hell of a team, you know? Butch and Sundance. Rabb and MacKenzie. Harm and Mac."

"Ying and Yang. Frick and Frat."

He gives me the evil eye almost as if he were minding a child. "I mean it. . .I can tell that this is going to be a royal pain in the ass. We're going to be driven past the point of insanity. . .just want to marry you not make it into an affair that even the President would be upset if he missed." I agree with that. I just want to marry him. The where and how is really all a dog and pony show for our friends and family. "So, what do you say? We can just take off right now. Once we're out of Virginia, _then_ we call everyone. So that they a) can't find us and b) can't coax us back easily."

Is he serious? "You're serious?" He nods with quite a good amount of enthusiasm. "Oh God, you are."

"No wedding planner, no band, no. . ."

I am glad he's so optimistic about this, one of us has to be. "And no General to bust our asses for going UA?" Ah, and that takes the winds out of his sails. "Harm, we've spent the last nine years pushing each other away and, effectively, driving our friends crazy because of it, I think they _might_ want to be there when it happens.. . .Besides, I did the eloping thing once and there's nothing charming or romantic about it, no matter how it sounds."

"Oh." The expression on his face falls slightly and he stares down at his hands which are now on his lap. "I kinda forgot that you went through one of these before. . .And that you were planning another."

I shake my head. "Mic was planning the wedding I was just. . .you know, it doesn't matter. Chris and Mic are in the past and staying there. . .I am talking about a wedding. A _real_ wedding with the man that I _really_ love." Reaching over, I place a hand on his. "I promise, if this gets _too_ crazy, we'll back off and give us more time."

Harm sighs deeply and turns to look at me. "See, that's the thing, I am tired of the time thing. . .We've wasted so much time." He shakes his head and cringes when he stares out the front window. "They're here." I go to hop out of the car when his hand wraps around my arm and pulls me back in. "If it gets _too_ crazy, we'll back off." He reassures my earlier reassurance and then kisses me senseless. Hurrying around the car, he opens the door for me and we then exchange pleasantries with the ladies.

The wedding planner's office is located in quaint little building just outside of Alexandria. Apparently, Trish knows him as he was the one that planned her close friend's wedding three years ago. The four of us step inside and are greeted by a woman who served as the assistant. "Hello!" She beams, comes around her desk and manages to hug us four, all at once. She stares at Harriet and Harm and takes their hands, joining them. "Oh, you must be the happy couple, I could see it in your eyes."

"Ah, ehehe. . .well." Harm stammers and Harriet just giggles. Oh, I know Harriet thinks that Harm is attractive, I am not stupid. I am not jealous either. In fact, this is just comical. I step back slightly and watch the interaction between them. Harriet blushes a deep shade of red and Harm is trying to back peddle while staring at me with that 'I didn't do it' look. "Actually, she's my wife. . .er, fiancé. . .Soon to be my wife." He reaches his hand to me and before I have a chance to take it, the woman attacks me.

Literally. "Oh my God, I am such a fool!" She hugs me to the point that I could feel my intestines wadding up into a ball. Christ. Breathing. Need. Air. "It's just that. . .Oh, never mind. . .I am Radinka, but everyone calls me Radi." This woman is either suffering from a hyperactivity disorder or was a cheerleader in a past life and has retrograded.

"It's alright. . .Trish Burnett sent us." I hope that dropping Trish's name gets the ball rolling. I really don't want to spend all Saturday here. Really, people who are _that_ cheery, scare me.

Radinka, loudly, smacks her hands together making the four of us jump. "Trishie! Oh my God, she is such a lovely woman. She Jacques and I did the _whole_ Kellerman wedding. . .It was beautiful. . .Oh, I must show you the pictures."

"Is Jacques in?" Harm asks with quite a terrified look. Seeing as I all but stomped on his eloping idea, if I know Harm, he's probably considering to kidnap me and elope anyway. Can't say I blame him.

"Yes! Please step right in!" She all but skips to a heavy looking wooden door, knocks twice and opens it up without being invited to. "Jacques this is Trish Burnett's son and his fiancé and friends!"

Jacques doesn't look like a Jacques at all. I mean, I was half expecting a rather thin man with a funny looking mustache that curled up. Pale skin and some expensive as hell black suit. But no, this man looks like a linebacker for the 49ers! He's huge, muscular, dressed in a grey suit with a pink shirt and even brighter pink tie. "Aie dios mio!" Oh yea, Jacques my ass. By his dark skin and accent, I figure the man is likely from the Caribbean. This man's real name is probably Juan and is, undoubtedly same-sex oriented. He gets up quickly, sashays across the room, walking much more femininely than I could ever pull off and he comes right to Harm. "Harmon Rabb Junior!" He says with a _very_ rich, _very_ Latino accent. "Aie! Jour mami told me mucho about joo! Cam here!" Jacques grabs Harm and puts a squeeze on him. Next, he heads to me. "You mast be Sarah! Trish sent me pictures of joo two." I am the next one on his bear hug and, after a quick introduction, so are Jen and Harriet.

"Please, sit down." He waves to the chairs along a round conference looking table that is in a room attached to his office. I take a seat next to Harm and the girls sit across from us as Jacques sits at what should be the head of the table. "Okay. . .Sarah, Harm. . .what do joo whant?"

Harm chuckles and turns to me. "We were just discussing that, actually. . .We really don't know."

Harriet, Jacques, Jen and Radi all chose this moment in time to answer unanimously. "You don't know?

"Aie, dios." Jacques places a hand on his mouth, covering his shock. "Joo know, it is berry bad not to know. . .That makes my job mach harder. . .Aie. . . Bueno." He swings out of his chair, walks to a credenza and pulls out six books which he places at several spots along the table. "Dis are pictures of weddings I did just last jear. . .Joo can browse, see if there is something joo like."

I pull over a book and Harm and I glance through several pictures. Some of these weddings are hideous. We stop at one where all of the grooms men are in light pink suits and the bridal party is wearing lime green. It's a 'don't look directly at the wedding party' type of affair. "Ah, jez. . .That was a beaaautiful wedding. . .Joo like?"

No. "Oh yes, it's lovely, but I think we wanted either a traditional black and white wedding or something with more earthy tones." God, I suddenly sounded like one of those people that tell you what you should and shouldn't wear. I have to say, my choice of clothing has progressed during the years. I went from sporty, to slutty, to conservative to, I think, stylish. And that's when Jacques pops me with a question I wasn't prepared for.

"Are joo a virgin?"

Had I been drinking something I'd have choked for sure. "Excuse me?" Is anyone a virgin these days?

"What the hell does that have to do with anything?" Harm asks, rather defensively as a vision of him hanging Jacques by his tie comes into mind.

"Aie dios! I didn't mean to offend, but, joo know. . .Some women don't want to wear white." He holds his hands up in surrender and then flutters them down as if he's getting rid of some imaginary spirit. As he does so, I hear him say a few things in Spanish that I just can't understand. That was weird. "Okay. . .Harmon, joo a Navy Officer, si?"

"Yes." Harm answers and I can see where Jacques is going with dis. . .Umm, I mean THIS.

Jacques smiles brightly. "Okay, we can have the wedding at the Naval Academy. . .I do a wedding there last January and it was soooo presioso! Very precious, very pretty. . .The uniform is like. . ."

"No." Harm and I say in unison, then turn to each other in bewilderment. "Mac, I thought you would want a full blown Navy wedding."

I shrug. The thoughts of Harm in dress whites is. . .sigh. . .talk about a knight in shining armor. But, "I am not so sure I want the whole Navy thing. . .I mean, the Navy and the Marines have dictated what we do and who we are for so long. . .Don't get me wrong, the Navy is part of you and the Marines are part of me. There parts that we both love about each other, but. . .it shouldn't be the only things that define who we are."

The flyboy is staring at me with such a look of bewilderment it almost seems like he went into shock. It's then that I turn to my friends who are staring at me with tears in their eyes. "Sarah, that is sooo. . .beautiful." Cries Jacques who removes a pink hanky from his breast pocket and proceeds to LOUDLY blow his nose. "Oh! Jacques has an idea!!" He shrikes and swoops down on another book like a hawk. He leafs through quickly and stops at a picture that is quite breath taking. "This is in Maryland, right on the Chesapeake bay. . .Joo could have the ceremony outside and then joo have a choice. A tented ballroom which fits 300 people or a small ballroom that fits up to 150 people. . .It's berry pretty. . .A little expensive, but, Jacques is good friends with the owner."

Harm and I share a look, a knowing look. You know? One of our silent conversations. I want this place, I do. And it's not so far away that our friends won't be able to join us. "You're thinking the same thing I am, right?" He asks and I pray that our connection doesn't falter.

"I think so." I say with a nod and point to the indoor, 150 seat ball room. "We want this." Harm smiles as I point to the breathtaking ball room overlooking the bay.

At the point Jacques lets out a blood curling yelp and flutters his hands around like a butterfly. "AIE!! Dis is just so. . .I tink I am going to cry!" And he does. For that matter, so do Jen and Harriet, my trusty 'assistant's' who haven't said much of anything during the whole ordeal. I'll get them later. "Now we need to make a list of what we need.

"Well, a dress is the most important thing." Harriet says grinning at me conspiringly.

Jen agrees with a nod. "Yes, and the rings. . .And the Commander, er. . .I mean, Harm, needs something nice to wear that will go with the Colonel's dress." No matter how much we try, Jen can't seem to shake the Commander/Colonel, Sir/Ma'am thing. For that matter, neither can Bud. "I mean, Mac."

"Jes, jes. . .and then there is the food, chicken, fish, pasta, shrimp. . .Oh! Si! The music, a band or a DJ?. . .AIE! BOTH!!" He beams and continues to rattle things off like 'boquet', 'garter', 'flowers', 'decorations.' It isn't long before I am getting a massive migraine.

Sighing, I lean towards Harm and whisper in his ear. "Is it too late to elope?"

I wonder how long it would take us to drive to Vegas?


	51. Viva Las Vegas!

Yes! I've resumed this one too. . .Basically, I was caught between a traditional wedding and eloping and settled for this however, not to worry, something else is up my sleeve. ;) Enjoy and all typos are mine, these are usually never checked I just post them as I write. 

Jackie!

**Part 51 – Viva Las Vegas!**  
I never realized just how big weddings are. I mean, I had a clue considering how much Harriet and Bud fussed about theirs, but, sweet Jesus this is, almost painful.  
"Table cloth? We have to pick the color of the table cloth? What's wrong with just white?" Sighing, I leaf through one of the six booklets that Jacques handed us over the weekend. Maybe the office isn't the best place to be glancing at these, but my caseload is non-existent, I just kicked Mattoni's ass and. . .

A quick rap on the door and, without warning Mac barges into my office and closes the door behind her. She has this Cheshire cat grin and a mischievous glint in her eyes that tells me I should be worried. "Atlantic City." She says and then places a brochure on my desk, pointing to Trump's Taj Mahal hotel. "There's a three day waiting period, but it saves us having to drive all the way to Vegas. . .I've always wanted to check out the boardwalk and. . ."

"Mac?" I try to interrupt but she's off on some tangent.

". . .I hear the Taj Mahal is just gorgeous and it even has a. . ."

Oh brother! Wasn't she trying to talk me out of eloping? I mean, that wasn't a figment of my imagination was it? "Mac!" I yell and she stops rambling, then gives me that doe-eyed MacKenzie look. "I've been to Atlantic City and, trust me, besides the Taj, the Boardwalk and a couple of high-roller casinos, there's really not much to write home about."

"Oh." Her shoulders slump, that gleam in her eye is gone as she straightens up and grabs the brochure. Mac holds the piece of paper between her fingers almost as if it would bite her. Sadly, she slips into one of my guest chairs and chuckles without much humor behind it. "Funny. Here _I _was the one telling _you_ that we couldn't elope and suddenly. . .Tell me I'm not running away again." Her eyes beg for me to answer, for me to straighten up her tumultuous life even if its just a little.

I snort and settle back into my chair. "Babe, if you're running then I am running with you." I wasn't joking about eloping. This wedding this is doable, but. . .Oh, I don't know! Eloping sounds like fun! "You want to do it? Then let's do it. . .only we're going to Vegas." Now I'm grinning like a Cheshire cat and that gleam in her eyes has returned. "And no pathetic themed chapels. . or. . ."

She bites her lower lip and then chuckles. "I thought that was part of the Vegas charm? The quirky chapels."

It is and I am sure that's why so many people decide to get hitched there, however, this is the woman of my dreams. She deserves a hell of a lot more than getting married by a Vulcan on the bridge of the Starship Enterprise. – Uh, yeah, I spoke to Bud about it. "I don't want to cheapen it, thanks." Hey, she's the woman I'm in love with, no hokey wedding plans, alright!

"Okay, well, check on the Internet." She points at my computer and comfortably settles into the chair. "It's gotta be there, everything's on the 'net these days."

With my poor typing abilities and the use of a major search engine, I find several interesting links and some extremely peculiar ones. "Okay, Gothic weddings? Nooooo. . .Ah, okay, here. . . The Limo wedding, where you get wed IN the limo whilst it drives around the strip." I glance up at Mac who shakes her head. "Okay, then there are helo weddings. . .Oh, and check this out, they will even do it over the Grand Canyon." I tap the screen and scoot to the edge of my seat. The views on this one are very pretty and I think we'd. . .

"A helo?" Mac snorts and then pins me with a reminiscent look. "The first time I saved your six was when you were hanging out of one."

For my sanity, I decide to ignore that comment and the fact that I was shitting bricks while I was hanging from said helo. "Anyway. . .Then there's the Red Rock Canyon where you. . ."

"Harm, I'm from the desert, saying our vows in the scorching heat, no thanks. . ." She explains and I get the feeling that most elopers aren't as picky as we are. Thank God for the variety.

I flip through several pages of the generic type of chapels. I've never been a fan of the drive-thru kinds, but then I see a piece of the puzzle that I find appealing. "Oooh! There's the drive up weddings. They even rent a classic Vette convertible and. . ." By the look on her face, that's also a no. Not that I was too thrilled about that either. Sigh. "Oh! This sounds promising: _Gondolas are as picturesque as they are romantic. . ._You can exchange your vows on one and then just ride around for a while. . ." She gets that silly, love stricken look in her eyes and I guess I've found the winner. "The Venetian it is, I'll make a call, book the flight."

Mac blanches slightly. "And what are we going to tell the General?"

"That we want to take a few personal days." I hope he'll swallow that. See, Commanding officers, generally want to know WHY you're taking those days. Or at least, an idea why.

"And you don't think he'll ask why?" She crosses her arms in a show of defiance.

I shrug, "If he asks, it's for the wedding."

"That would be lying."

"No, that would be streeeeeeetching the truth."

"We're gonna get killed."

"Hey, I dropped the whole eloping thing and you're the one who ran in here today putting crazy ideas back in my head."

Mac raises her hands up in surrender. "I know, I know. . .Okay, it's Tuesday, if we leave tonight, we can get hitched tomorrow, see the sights on Thursday, Friday and head back on Saturday."

Did she just say 'hitched?' Talk about a word I never thought Mac had in her vocabulary! "Saturday?" Odd day to get back ins't it? "I thought we'd get back on Sunday."

Mac shakes her head. "We can't. Remember those six sailors that got busted for conduct unbecoming when they decided to drop their trousers?"

Oh yeah, the one's who's cases we'd be reviewing first thing Monday morning because they decided to moon a senior officer. "I forgot, we have to head out to Norfolk on Sunday night."

"Exactly."

"Okay, we'll return on Saturday. Now – who's gonna speak to Cresswell?" I am hoping that she'll do it, seeing as this latest 'eloping scheme' is her fault. So what that I already gave Jacques a down payment? We'll use that at another time. "I mean, I need to make the reservations so I figured that. . ."

"You'd figured I was stupid enough to go ask Cresswell for a mini-vacation in the middle of a work week that is bound to get busy at any moment." Funny, when she puts it _that_ way it seems to suck the fun out of it. "Cute, flyboy. . .We go together."

Fifteen minutes later, we are standing in front of Cresswell's desk. He's on the phone ripping someone a new one over. . . well, I am not sure why really. I can't help but cringe as his voice hits an octave louder and the walls seem to shake. This may not be such a hot idea. Commanding officer's have scared me from time to time, at the moment, though, I feel like running out of the office.

"What do you want?" Is he speaking to us? Ah, yes he is and his tone of voice combined with that glare can't bode well for Mac and I. "Well? Colonel? Commander? Someone say something."

Mac clears her throat. "S-s-sir, Commander Rabb and I have some days on the books and we were wondering if we could. . ."

"Take them off?" He raises a brow and exchanges a glance between Mac and I. "Can I ask why you need to take some days off?"

I was really hoping he wouldn't ask. That whole stretching the truth idea might come back to bite us in the ass. "The wedding, sir. . .We needed a few days to. . ."

"Elope, right?"

We both groan audibly and then turn to look at each other. Busted. We're soooo busted. "Well, sir, it's just that. . ."

Creswell takes a deep breath and then opens up a case file on his desk. I can't really tell if he's pissed off or not. "Go ahead, so long as the two of you are in Norfolk to speak to your clients."

He's letting us go? Just like that? "You're approving this, sir?"

Perhaps questioning out commanding officer is probably the worst idea I could have had. In a heartbeat he's standing right in front of me. Out of habit I stand ramrod straight and stare dead ahead. "Rabb, I am not the heartless SOB you think I am. Besides, as far as I am concerned, the SECNAV owes you one."

While I agree with that assessment, I am not really in the mood to figure out _how_ it's going to work. Obviously one of us will have to leave JAG unless we are to set some president. On the other hand, I've heard speculation of the Navy allowing spouses to serve together so long as they do not act inappropriately. Course, that is something that Bobbi Latham was toying with several years ago. "Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."

"Dismissed."

Mac and I rush out of there and head to the safety of my office. "Did Creswell just let us elope?" She asks with a befuddled expression.

"Viva Las Vegas!" I say with a smirk as I wonder what lays ahead for Mac and I.


	52. When One Ride Ends, Start Another

Okay folks, it's over... Well, the dating part. . .There's still the whole marriage part which, we'll see how it goes. I have some ideas as to what will happen soonish. Someone will spot them in Vegas. ;) 

Here we go, enjoy. No smut as I've always written this story without it. Live with it!!! Sheesh! ;) 

Enjoy! 

Jackie 

PS: Thanks for the support, feedback, comments etc, they've been very much  
appreciated! 

**Part 52 – When One Ride Ends, Start Another.**

I must say, my future husband has pulled out all of the stops when putting together this little eloping adventure of ours. Though he hasn't said so, I suspect that he used the money that Trish was giving him to plan the wedding on our escapade. Not that I can complain. Harm and I aren't the traditional type and though I'd always envisioned the two of us getting married at a church, with Harm in his dress whites, I came to realize that I didn't care how it happened, as long as it did. Not to say that I want him wearing a potato sack or anything, but my dream wedding has shifted course and I, for one, am happy it did.

The more the pressures of a big wedding kept strangling us the more I wanted to runaway, with Harm. Eloping just sounded fun and, frankly, Harm and I have had enough of the serious stuff and deserve a little fun and happiness. "Are you ready, ma'am?" I turn around and find the concierge standing at the open door to our honeymoon sweet. He's dressed to the nines and was wiling to serve as our witness. It's a little sad that none of our friends could be present, but all I really needed is my sailor.

"Just a few minutes, Geoffrey, thank you." I check my reflection once again, making sure everything is in place. I had opted to skip the traditional white gown. I really didn't want to look or feel like a gigantic cream puff. What I chose was still considered a wedding dress, but it was more sexy and flattering to my figure. The dress is champagne colored with a low cut front, showing enough to still keep it modest, sort of. It drapes over my shoulders and has a 'V' at the back which ends just above the small of my back. It cost entirely too much for the few hours I'm going to have it on, but a girl needs a little class now and again. Dangling from my neck is a 'Y' shaped necklace with little diamonds spaced half an inch apart. The set came with matching earrings.

I haven't seen Harm since last night, when we purposely separated all account of that "groom shouldn't see bride on wedding day" crap. I am not the overly superstitious type, but seeing as everything that could go wrong in our relationship has happened, it's best not to tempt fate. "Alright, let's get going."

Stepping out of the bedroom I find Geoffrey wearing a grey Armani suit with a red rose on the breast of his jacket. He's a gorgeous guy, tall, blond hair, green eyes with one hell of a body. His boyfriend, Jack, who just so happens to be the gondolier's vocal coach will be taking pictures. "You look gorgeous, honey." He says, grinning widely as he admires the dress. Only the dress.

I slip my hand through the crook of his arm and we are off, heading towards the elevators that will be the entry way to the beginning of the rest of my life.

Last night we went through the rehearsal and all of the doo dah's that we needed to know about the mini-ceremony. Harm will be waiting for me at 'Ponte di la Piazza' or the 'bridge over the square' and we will walk together down the steps that lead to the gondola. The Venetian hotel was built so that it looks as if you are walking through the stress of Venice complete with a Grand Canal and a few bridges. It's as authentic as you can get in Sin City and, if you ignore the rings and dings of the slot machines nearby, you can just believe that you really are in Venice.

"Are you nervous?"

"No!" I answer Geoffrey's question just a little too quickly which earns me a chuckle.

"Then why are you fidgeting?"

"I'm not." Really! I'm not! It's just that the damned garter belt, which I bought specifically to give Harm something 'interesting' to look at later tonight, has decided to twist. I am trying to modestly shift it back into place without doing something utterly unlady like.

"Uh huh." Geoffrey doesn't seem to believe me and when the elevator dings at the lobby, that nervousness I claimed not have decided to manifest itself. He pulls my arm but I remain standing at the back of the elevator staring out as I remember why I am here. "Ms. MacKenzie?"

"I'm getting married." I ground out and the weight of it all hits me like a two ton heavy thing. "I am marrying Harm." Harm, the once elusive conquest that is now my fiancé, soon to be my husband. "I am marrying Harmon Rabb Junior." Jesus Christ, is he nuts?!

I mean, really, with my track record with men, Harm's best bet is to run the other way and never look back. The man has to be completely insane to consider marrying me. Then again, Harm's sanity could be questioned many times over. The man did play tag with a dirty nuke. Another tug on my arm and I find myself unconsciously moving out of the elevator.

"Ms. MacKenzie, your fiancé is waiting." He says nothing else as I am weaved through the hotel and into the areas that make it look as if you really are standing in Venice's Piazza. I pass by onlookers in a blur as I am escorted towards the Ponte di la Piazza.

My breath catches at my throat when I spot him. I know what I was expecting, a tuxedo, maybe a suit which he tends to wear so well. However, I am surprised to find him standing there in dress whites and gold wings. He's having an animated conversation with the gondolier and the minister, probably about flying jets if I know him. The gondolier, dressed in traditional clothing complete with a hat, funky trousers and black and white stripped shirt notices me before my fiancé does. Grinning, he taps Harm on the shoulder and motions towards me.

We are a good twenty feet away from each other but once our eyes lock everything else disappears. His smile disappears and his mouth forms a perfect 'o'. Obviously, the dress is doing just what I expected it to do. Geoffrey takes me the rest of the way and it's a long while before my sailor has anything to say, even then, it's only my name. "Sarah."

I run a finger down his cheek and then down over his shoulder and lower still. I straighten his gold wings, not that it needed straightening, but mostly to ensure myself that this is real. "Always was a sucker for dress whites and gold wings."

His expression changes and that flyboy smile beams in all of it's glory. "I thought they were 'overrated'?"

"Nah, I was just trying to play 'hard to get.'" I say cheekily and thread my arm through his. He walks taller, almost like a triumphant knight who's just won his princess, and leads me down the steps to the dock where the Venetian has parked a large, white gondola which is reserved for weddings.

Our gondolier bows and helps me into the watercraft. "Guud ehevening, signora, miya name iz Santino." Aha, right. 'Santino' is blond haired, blue eyed and looks more like a Sven than anything else. "Iz mi pleasure to sing for you tonait." At least he has a decent, fake, Italian accent.

Harm hops in after me, taking my hand as soon as he sits next to me. Our minister, Father O'Reily steps in next, followed by Geoffrey. As soon as we push off, the ceremony begins without a hitch, unlike the rehearsal we had last night where Harm nearly fell off the gondola. He's looking at me now and I suspect that we have matching expressions of wonder, love and awe. His eyes which change so much with his emotions are a clear blue. I dare say I've never seen him so happy before. "Dearly beloved we are gathered here today to join this man and this woman in holy matrimony. . ."

Father O'Reily's speech becomes nothing but background chatter as I become aware of Harm's fingers threaded through my own. This really _is_ the beginning of the rest of my life. . .our life. I've waited so long for my miracle, the one thing that I yearned for ever since I met this man. His going to be mine now, forever and I day if I have anything to say about it.

Yes, we'll have ups and downs; those few moments where we'll want to kill each other. I smile at him as I considered how far we have come. No matter what or who got in the way, in the end, it was always Harm and I standing side by side. He's my soul mate, I know that for a fact. He'll always be in my heart. "Do you Sarah, take Harmon to be your lawful wedded husband?"

In my reverie I've failed to notice that I've missed most of the ceremony and become aware of my surroundings again when I hear Geoffrey clear his throat. "I do." The same question is asked of Harm and he's elated as he responds, "I do."

I feel a cool piece of circular metal against my skin and realize that this is nearly complete. Our decade long journey is coming to an end and we'll be starting a new adventure as husband and wife. "With this ring I thee wed." Harm's voice is deep and rich. His eyes full of unshed tears. Oh God, this _is_ real.

He repeats the words that Father O'Reily tells him to, his eyes glued to mine the entire time. "With my body I thee worship. . .With my heart I thee love." He kisses my ring finger and slides the white gold piece home.

Taking Harm's ring from Geoffrey, I repeat the same words. "With this ring I thee wed. . .With my body I thee worship. . .With my heart I thee love." I slide Harm's ring into place and can't help the tears that are streaming down my face. I feel silly crying but am comforted to know that I am not the last or the first female to have done the same.

"I now pronounce you man and wife you may. . ." The man isn't even done speaking before Harm pulls me close and kisses me deeply and passionately. It's something that we wouldn't have been able to get away with in a church, but in Sin City, it's probably a tame kiss. ". . .kiss the bride." Father O'Reily finishes with annoyance. Applause fills the air and I realize that the crowd around us approves the nuptials.

I cling to Harm like my life depends on it, deepening the kiss and bringing it this shy of becoming x-rated. It isn't long before I come up for air to find the gondola docking. Father O'Reily and Geoffrey step off and we are given a solo ride with only Santino as he serenades us. "You're mine now." Harm teases as he runs his fingers up my bareback. "All mine."

"Mmm, and you're mine which means I can now put that 'Property Of USMC' on your cute six." I banter back and then kiss him softly. Santino goes from one song to another, his baritone voice echoing along the canal. "Never thought eloping would be so. . ."

"Charming?"

That's one way of putting it. "Romantic. . . I should have known it would have been different with you."

"Did you doubt me?" He doesn't seem hurt when he asks, but curious.

I shrug self-consciously. "Not that I doubted you. But, I've had a bad track record and. . ."

"That's over now, Mac. . .It's you and I now. . .Nothing is going to change that." His sincerity is one of the things I've always loved about Harm. When he believed in something, he would fight it tooth and nail. I know that our relationship is now one of those things. I know that I am safe with him.

Santino maneuvers the gondola so that we are headed back towards the Ponte di la Piazza. "Hmm, our ride is about to be over."

I shiver unconsciously when his fingers brush a spot on my bare back. "Oh, baby, I can guarantee you a better ride, upstairs."

I'll bet he can. "Oh yeah? What kind of 'ride?'"

Harm scratches his chin and pretends to ponder something that I am sure he already has a response to. "Mmm. The kind of ride that will make you feel like you're flying." He says smugly and then leans in to whisper all of the things he's planning on doing to me when we reach the hotel room.

My cheeks burn into a blush. "Oh my." Never one to give up a fight, I retort with some of my own sexy details. "I am willing to bet that after you see what I have on underneath, you won't get a chance to do any of that?" I challenge.

"Oh yeah?"

"Oh yeah." I hike up the dress enough to show the start of the garter and watch as Harm's mouth widens. The gondola docks and Santino helps me out. "C'mon flyboy, time to unwrap your wedding present."

"Right behind you, Marine." We walk hand in hand through the hotel, ignoring the din around us as we step into the elevators and go up to our suite. After he carries me across the threshold the mood changes and I can honestly say I've never loved him more than I do at this very moment. "Ready, Marine?"

"As ready as I've ever been." I step forward and into his waiting arms. When one ride ends, you definitely have to start another. We kiss deeply and I am bombarded by thoughts and memories of us through the years. To think that, after all of this time, it was Harm that finally closed the distance one February afternoon when he called me 'beautiful.'


End file.
